


Resident Evil: Power of Sin: New Version

by ResiGamerGirl



Series: Power of Sin Trilogy [1]
Category: Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen, Non-Canonical Character Death, Original Character(s), POV Canon Character, POV Original Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-22
Updated: 2019-04-13
Packaged: 2019-11-03 17:44:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 20
Words: 59,199
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17882333
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ResiGamerGirl/pseuds/ResiGamerGirl
Summary: Part 1 serves as a reminder of games prior to RE5 and a complete rewrite or alternate take of RE5. It begins the relationships and stories that evolve in Part 2 (book 2).Chris Redfield is on a mission in Africa when a very familiar mansion appears. An assorted group of people find themselves inside the mansion because they happened to be in the wrong place, at the wrong time. Reality has changed in this alternate universe version of the Resident Evil series.TEASERSTrilogy: One bizarre event sets the stage for an uncertain future.Book 1: Event.Book 2: Consequences of the event.Book 3: Legend born from the consequences.





	1. Meeting Chris Redfield

**Author's Note:**

> The group of OCs who begin this story will not appear in the next two parts (books).

They were having a bad day.

All of them appeared in this place out of nowhere. Noel Jones had taken his teenage daughter to an old, unused parking lot to get driving practice for her highly desired license. The lot belonged to a pharmaceutical company that went out of business years ago. They were out of the car a matter of minutes to finish their coffees when they appeared in a new location in the blink of an eye.

He and Claire didn't arrive in this unknown place alone.

Two men a few years apart in appearance, shared they were brothers, Nathan and Steven Russo. The black-haired, dark-eyed pair showed up in the large room when they did. Six other men were there too. These six introduced themselves as having been inside the abandoned building connected to the parking. Four of them were FBI agents dressed in tactical gear. The lead agent had shaven hair and was named Anderson. The agents were working alongside a scientist named Dr. Yasir Patel, and a man named Lucas. Lucas had a pasty complexion and bags under his eyes. He wore plain clothes and offered he was with the FBI to avoid prison.

An arm around his daughter's shoulders, keeping an eye on the shady type Lucas seemed, he established they were inside a mansion with an older sort of decor. The foyer in which they stood was brightly lit and quiet. He walked them closer to the front door wondering what they would see when they opened it. The others were busy delivering unfounded accusations and blame shifting despite having to know none of them had the power to do such a thing or reason.

Noel decided to take the initiative, saying, “Okay, everyone remain calm. We have to figure out where we are and the way out. It's simple so nobody needs to panic.”

He absorbed his surroundings. There was a large staircase leading up to a second floor and a door to his left and right. Turning and putting his back to the stairs, he focused his attention on a third set of double doors straight ahead. He pointed it out to the others.

“I suggest we take the exit and try to figure out where we are.”

As if on cue, one side of the doors burst open. A team of uniformed men ran inside. Mostly uniformed. An odd man out wore lighter gear, however, they all had the same symbol on a shoulder of their outfit sleeve.

The last one in slammed the door behind him and rested his back against the door, completely out of breath. By their clothing, they were clearly field operatives of some kind and they were armed and wearing equipment. A man possibly in his early to mid-thirties was the first to notice the dozen or so people standing around the foyer. He signaled the other four agents or soldiers, who quickly raised their weapons at them.

The man who had taken notice of them did the same with his handgun, eyeing them suspiciously. Noel settled his hands on his daughter's shoulders, squeezing to provide comfort. He maneuvered Claire behind him, surveying the confrontation potentially generating.

“Identify yourselves!” the uniquely attired soldier commanded. “What are you doing here?”

Having had enough of this confusion, the older of the two brothers spoke to the armed soldiers.

“We don't know how we got here. All of us are just people who ended up in this house. My name is Nathan Russo, this is my little brother, Steven. We have no clue what's going on or how it's possible.”

The man frowned, most likely not knowing what to believe. “What do you mean you don't know how you got here?”

“I'm Agent Anderson with the FBI,” the federal agent revealed. “I was investigating a series of disappearances in Wimberly, Texas with my team.”

The soldier observed him indicating his team members, disregarding the four civilians who came to be in this mansion too. “Texas? This is Colorado.”

“What?” Nathan breathed in disbelief.

The sentiment was mirrored on the faces of everyone else in their group. Noel felt Claire nudge his arm when she moved to stand at his side. He ran a hand through her blonde waves of hair, hoping she wasn't very afraid or worried. He could do the concern enough for the both of them.

“The Arklay Mountains to be precise,” the soldier volunteered. “Raccoon City used to be a few miles from here.”

“Used to be?” asked Dr. Patel.

The soldier seemed saddened for a moment before he covered with a tough expression.

“Yeah, the government blew it up to stop a viral outbreak from spreading and to cover their asses.”

Lucas looked at the Indian scientist. “Avoidable casualties. A real tragedy and complete waste of research and funding.”

The soldier gave him a questioning stare. “What would you know about it?”

“Nothing, nothing,” he replied with a smile. “Forget I said anything.”

Agent Anderson was glaring at him. Noel was a former police officer until a case got him and his family put in witness protection for the past sixteen years. He understood when cops made use of criminal assets, their backgrounds had associations with the investigation or investigations they were brought in to help on. Lucas probably knew some things concerning the former pharmaceutical giant responsible for that deadly outbreak. Everyone who was an adult a decade ago when news broke about Raccoon City's destruction, also heard about Umbrella Corporation.

The soldier searched each of them over one more time and lowered his weapon. He motioned for his team to do the same. They were reluctant to do so but followed their commander's orders. Studying the odd assortment of people gathered in the foyer, he introduced himself.

“My name is Chris Redfield and I'm a special agent with the Bio-terrorism Security Assessment Alliance. These are my comrades David, Josh, Martin, and Ethan.”

Bio-terrorism? He knew of the BSAA, not much else. His work never overlapped with them while living in Florida.

He pointed to each member in turn as he supplied their names. The BSAA agent turned his gaze on Anderson, who was eyeing him with hostility and suspicion.

“What kind of disappearances were you investigating? Why send in the FBI?” Agent Redfield asked.

Anderson stared at him. “That's classified.”

“You people claim you appeared out of thin air. I'm thinking the place you started might have something to do with it,” Agent Redfield said.

The FBI agent in charge stonewalled. “I also hunt terrorists.”

Agent Redfield took interest in this and asked, “Do you know about a potential doomsday project?”

The blankness in his expression clearly gave an answer.

“I would be very interested to know what you're all doing here but right now there isn't time. You should stay here as a group.” The BSAA agent turned his gaze back to Anderson. “You and your team should keep alert until my team and I return.”

Noel wasn't keen on this plan. He didn't like staying in one place for very long when he didn't know the situation or potential danger. He decided to disregard the order.

“No thank you. I don't know about the rest of you but I'm taking my daughter and getting her home. The door is right there and we'll find our own way.”

He started for the door, Claire trailing slowly behind him. She seemed hesitant to leave the others behind. Admirable, considering they were strangers, but too friendly for the same reason.

One of the armed BSAA soldiers was quick to step in front of the door, blocking their exit.

“Move out of the way,” he demanded sternly.

“You don't want to go out there.”

Noel narrowed his eyes, adjusting his thick rimmed glasses. “Why not?”

“Skinless dogs,” the soldier, Ethan, answered.

As if to prove his point, he rolled up a sleeve to show them a rather nasty dog bite on his forearm.

“Quick as hell and vicious bastards,” he added, pulling his sleeve back down.

Claire seemed curious. “Why would they attack you?”

Really? It was the skinless mention he was wondering on. Were they sick? Some kind of extreme rabies?

Ethan answered her. “They used to be guard dogs for this mansion. The T-Virus leaked and infected them. Damn dogs escaped from their cages and had their first taste of human flesh. Been eating it ever since cause it's the only food they got. These days they're especially hungry seeing as the only meat around here are the rotting zombies and they don't taste very-”

“That's enough,” Agent Redfield commanded. “I didn't tell you all of that so you could scare kids.”

He could see Claire was getting frightened by Ethan's talk.

“Zombies?” she uttered. “You're joking, right? Those don't exist...”

Agent Redfield looked sympathetic. “What's your name?”

She lifted her gaze to look up at him. “Claire.”

This brought a smile to the agent's lips. “I have a sister named Claire. She's much older than you. But she was only nineteen when she escaped Raccoon City. Claire was one of the few who did make it.”

It was easy to see by the way his face fell that he did not like talking about Raccoon much.

“What happened there?”

Agent Redfield didn't seem to like the idea of answering her. All of the others in the room were watching him intently, eager to know themselves. Even his teammates seemed to want to hear him tell the story and looked at him in anticipation.

He sighed and nodded.

“Okay, I suppose you have a right to know since you're all in this mess somehow,” he reasoned. “I should start from the beginning. Ten years ago I was a member of the STARS unit which stands for Special Tactics And Rescue Service. Strange murders had been occurring in the area just outside Raccoon City and the victims were apparently eaten.”

He paused when several of his audience winced at this, Claire especially. He continued anyways.

“STARS was sent in to investigate the forest where most of the murders had taken place next to Raccoon City. Bravo team was sent in first but we lost contact with them. I was a member of Alpha team and we took our own helicopter to investigate. My team members were Barry, Jill, Brad, Joseph, and our leader was Captain Wesker. We found Bravo's helicopter crashed in the middle of the forest and it was after that the nightmare began. The dogs got Joseph... They were just ripping him apart and eating him alive... I'll never forget the screams... Then our helicopter pilot, Brad, panicked and abandoned us, flying away before we could reach the chopper.”

It was obvious to his listeners that as he told his story, he was also reliving the memories. Noel could see he wasn't lying. The haunted look in his eyes revealed it was the truth.

He continued, “So we ran from the dogs, ran for our lives. We found this very mansion.”

Agent Redfield suddenly chuckled but it was one full of irony. “We thought this mansion would be shelter. Protect us from those skinless abominations.”

The man laughed again. “We were wrong. The mansion was a nightmare full of its own abominations. We were foolish and split up, thinking we could cover more ground as we searched for our missing comrades. We did find them..or at least the bodies.”

He squinted, trying to think for the details. “Kenneth was the first Bravo member discovered inside the mansion. Walked in a room to find a zombie feasting on his body. Richard was nearly dead of poisoning from being attacked by a giant infected snake. I made it to him in time but he was later eaten by an enormous shark.”

His listeners were staring in stunned disbelief. Sharks? Giant snakes? In a mansion? As if zombies and skinless dogs weren't hard enough to believe in the first place. Noel was feeling grateful he never worked with biological threats.

“Forrest was pecked to death by infected crows and became a zombie. I had to put him down. God... It was awful.”

Claire softly spoke. “You don't have to explain how your friends died if it's too painful.”

The BSAA agent shook his head. “No, they deserve to be remembered.”

He went on with his tale. “As I searched the mansion on my end, I learned this mansion was built by a man named George Trevor. But the mansion was actually a cover for something much bigger. The pharmaceutical company named Umbrella, founded by a man named Oswell E. Spencer, had built underground laboratories beneath the property. Umbrella turned out to be nothing but a mask to hide what Umbrella was really doing.”

Dr. Patel seemed very interested now. “What? What were they doing here?”

“Experiments. They were trying to engineer bio-weapons. They were using something called the T-Virus and there was an accident. The T-Virus leaked and infected the workers who soon became walking dead creatures. They roamed throughout the mansion, decaying, with their sad, soulless moans... But they weren't the worst of it. Many of their animal test subjects escaped from the cages. The ones I remember most were the hunters. Scary and deadly.”

He grew silent for a few seconds before going on. “The one monster I will never forget was Lisa Trevor. She was human once, an innocent child. When the mansion was constructed in the 1960s, the architect, Trevor, accidentally discovered the underground laboratories. Spencer grew paranoid the man would expose their experiments. He invited Trevor's wife and daughter to the mansion, Lisa was only fourteen then... Spencer locked Trevor in a secluded room where he left the man to die. He used Trevor's wife and daughter as test subjects in their experiments. I had to kill that little girl. She'd become a hideous monster, living underground and killing anyone alive she came across.” He broke off where he was headed. “I'm sorry. I'm getting off topic.”

No one said anything. Noel imagined they were still reeling from the fact this company had done so many horrible things. Infecting people against their will, illegally testing on animals and humans and then to have the virus leak like that... No one wanted to think too much on it. Even Lucas appeared a little disturbed hearing what the agent was telling them had happened ten years before.

Agent Redfield retained his previous line of thought. “I learned about Umbrella's experiments and I learned something else. There was a traitor in STARS. My captain, captain of the Alpha team, Albert Wesker, was working for Umbrella all along. He led our teams to the mansion on purpose. We were to be test subjects so Umbrella could see how their bio-weapons held up against trained soldiers.”

The agent clenched his fists. His face filled with anger at the thought of the traitor.

“Wesker shot and killed Enrico, the captain of Bravo team because Enrico learned of Wesker's betrayal. In the end, the remaining survivors of the two teams headed for the helipad after finally making contact with Brad. Our pilot returned to the area searching for us. Wesker woke the sleeping human experiment labeled Tyrant. He wanted to prove it was an amazing weapon but it killed him. Our team managed to kill the tyrant and we escaped on the helicopter before the mansion blew up, and don't ask me to explain how the mansion is here if it blew up. I have no idea in the slightest. Jill, Barry, and myself were the only ones from Alpha team to make it out and Rebecca was the sole survivor of Bravo team. Our pilot Brad survived as well, but..he didn't survive Raccoon City.”

It visibly pained him a great deal remembering these deaths. But he was definitely determined to give them all the facts. Noel could respect it.

“We tried to tell them. We tried to tell everyone what we'd seen in that mansion but no one believed us.”

Agent Redfield shook his head angrily. “They called us crazy and suspended us from STARS. Our teammates had died in vain!”

The man was fast to regain his calm and finished his story.

“A few months later, Raccoon City was affected. The entire city's population became infected by the T-Virus. There were people who hadn't been infected or changed yet but they were killed by the ones who had turned into those zombie creatures. My teammates Jill and Brad were in the city and they tried to escape while a creature named Nemesis tried to kill them. Nemesis was a monster created by Umbrella specifically designed to kill STARS. It got Brad but Jill managed to escape alive before the government blew the whole place all to hell. Umbrella had another facility underneath Raccoon where they were experimenting with something called the G-Virus. That place was the source of the outbreak, no doubt.

“So anyways, after the mansion incident and what happened in Raccoon City, myself and the other surviving members sought to expose Umbrella for what they had done. We finally succeeded but that victory was short-lived. Once Umbrella saw they were going to be ruined, they sold their viruses on the black market to the highest bidder.”

The agent shook his head in disgust. “A lot of evil bastards out there I guess.”

Claire glanced at Lucas when he said this. The man appeared to lack seriousness when taking the insinuation to heart, pantomiming a hurt figure. Noel put his body between them, protective. He was pleased she could suss out a suspicious character. It wasn't as great this drew a probable bad man's attention to her.

“Why Claire, I'm offended,” Lucas said, words coated with sarcasm.

“You're a murderer,” she told him bluntly. “Don't deny it.”

What was she doing making accusations like that? He shifted to scold his daughter when the reply caught him by surprise.

“I didn't make them suffer..long,” Lucas said, smiling creepily.

Noel moved them a few steps away. This man might be more dangerous than he thought.

Agent Redfield eyed the man confessing past murder as if trying to read him. A few moments longer and then he returned to the story.

“I won't get into details with the rest of what's happened up until now, but my captain from STARS, Wesker, he didn't die in that mansion incident. Well, he did die. The tyrant killed him, I saw it. But apparently Wesker managed to inject himself with an experimental serum known as the Progenitor virus before he died. The virus allowed him to resurrect and it also gave him superhuman abilities. This is the man I'm looking for. I have reason to believe he's planning to infect the entire world with a virus called Uroboros. Wesker's completely insane and extremely dangerous which is why you all need to stay here and-”

He didn't get to finish his sentence because the radio on his belt crackled to life, interrupting him.

“Chris?” a female voice came through the radio.

“That's the other team on this mission, Delta team,” Agent Redfield said to answer their curious gazes, and responded on his two way radio.

“Sheva, this is Chris. What's the situation?”

“We've found how Wesker plans to disperse the virus. There's an airfield on the map of this place and I'm bettin' he's going to use an aircraft. You can get to it through some sort of underground passageway in what looks like a large residential building.”

The person on the radio had a notable accent. Noel guessed some African variation in origin most likely. He had a pretty good ear for languages.

“Yeah. It's a mansion. I'm there now.”

“Roger that partner. We'll catch up with you- Randall look out!”

The radio went silent and looking alarmed, the agent tried to get a hold of her with no luck. After a few moments the radio crackled and the female voice came back on. When she spoke, she sounded frightened and her breathing was rapid, rough.

“Chris! What's going on around here? The people living in a small town nearby were trying to kill us. For no reason! There's something wrong with them. I don't understand.”

“I know. We ran into some of them too. They're acting like those ganado detailed in the Kennedy report.”

“Oh God... You don't think that's happened here too, do you?”

“I don't know but we've got to find Wesker and stop him. Contact me when you make it to the mansion. I'm going to try and find the passageway to the airport.”

“Roger that..and Chris?”

“Yeah, Sheva?”

“I'm sorry about what happened to your last partner.”

The BSAA agent's eyes filled with pain and deep sorrow. He hesitated before responding.

“What happened to Jill wasn't your fault. We're partners now Sheva, and I don't regret it, okay? Focus on the mission or you'll get yourself killed.”

“Right. We're partners to the end.”

The radio went silent again and the agent put it away. He turned back to everyone but didn't get anything out before a grinding noise sounded from behind the large staircase. A man with slicked back hair, dressed entirely in black came walking ever so arrogantly like, into view. Black boots, black pants, black shirt, black gloves, a long black coat, and black sunglasses. It was a lot of black.

He seemed to have come from a door none of them noticed existed. He didn't take any notice of them at first, walking right past where Lucas and Agent Anderson and his men were, heading for the stairs. He made it to the fourth or fifth step before Agent Redfield pulled himself out of his shock and shouted in anger.

“Wesker!”


	2. Right to Play God

He raised his gun and aimed it at Wesker. The man slowed to a stop on the staircase without turning. His accented voice spoke slow, extending each word as if anything he said was too important to be spoken any differently.

“Don't you ever tire of failing in your mission, Chris?”

“I can't let you release the virus, Wesker,” was all he said in reply.

The man took time turning his head to look at them. He fixed his eyes on him. An eerie smile embodied his face before he fully turned around. 

“Do you honestly think you can defeat me?” Wesker asked, very rhetorical.

“I don't know. But I won't stop trying until I'm dead,” he retorted, serious.

The formerly presumed dead man chuckled in a disturbing manner. “Then I guess I'll just have to kill you quickly.”

Wesker removed his dark sunglasses and stared hard at him. For the first time, the others could see he had red-yellow eyes. It would only further enhance his dangerous appearance to them. Good. They should be aware of the danger they were in. 

“Catch.” 

He stared, confused. “Huh?”

Wesker threw the sunglasses. Startled, he stepped back and caught them without thought. He frowned at what he held and heard a shout of warning. The dangerous man was suddenly in front of him. 

The enemy grabbed the arm holding his gun and pulled it to the side before delivering a punch to Chris's stomach. An elbow hit him under the chin. When the members of his team opened fire, Wesker literally kicked off of Chris's chest, sending him painfully to the floor. Back-flipping through the air and away, he watched him as he saw while Wesker attacked him, he also retrieved his sunglasses. The man put them on.

Chris and his team already knew how fast and strong Wesker was, but the others were shocked. He could understand since Wesker moved with a speed that made it seem as though he was disappearing and reappearing in different parts of the room. He was dodging the soldiers' bullets with ease while he flipped, dove, and spun throughout the room. Chris was back on his feet in time to see Wesker grab Josh up by the neck with one gloved hand holding him aloft. 

“No!” the BSAA agent yelled when he saw Wesker flexing his free hand. 

He knew what Wesker was going to do and he was too late to help his comrade. Wesker drove his fist through Josh's chest and out the other side. Without a hint of remorse, he pulled his hand back out and dropped the body to the floor. Chris didn't have time to mourn his friend, he opened fire on the killer, as did the other soldiers. Although Agent Anderson and his three men were armed, they made no move to help. They were like the other bystanders, too shocked by the man's abilities to do anything. It wasn't until the threat involved them did they begin to react.

Chris's gun was knocked from his hand but he was saved from further attack when Wesker jumped away in order to avoid the other soldiers' bullets. Dry clicks echoed throughout the room. All three had run out of ammunition at nearly the same time. Forgetting his gun for the moment, Chris ran at Wesker when the man landed graceful a few feet away. He shoved at him with all his strength. Wesker slid maybe a foot before he stopped moving. He was far too strong for him and knew it. He smiled at the attempt and latched onto Chris, ramming his knee in his stomach twice. Spinning and sending him across the room, the BSAA agent slammed into the left railing of the staircase. 

He fell to his hands and knees on the floor with a grunt of pain. Chris spotted his gun on the right by his hand and grabbed it, leaping to his feet. Himself armed, and the other soldiers now finished reloading their weapons, Wesker disappeared in a blur and reappeared behind the teenager. He grabbed the girl and pulled her away from the others, toward the wall on the right side of the room. He held her with an arm locked around her neck and the other wrenching one of her arms behind her back. The grip looked painful and she struggled frantically.

“Claire!” the man he assumed was her father called to her, fearful and alarmed.

“Let go of me!” she yelled in fury.

Wesker simply ignored her, his eyes locked on Chris, who approached with his weapon aimed toward them. He didn't dare come closer than a couple yards from the two.

“Why are you doing this? What could possibly make you want to destroy the world?” he asked.

He just couldn't understand why Wesker would want to do such a thing. His remaining three soldiers fanned out behind Chris, their assault rifles aimed at the man with his hostage as well. He got his answer. 

“Every day mankind leads itself closer to its own destruction. I'm not destroying the world, I'm merely saving it.”

“You're insane!” he shouted.

His declaration was ignored. “I will spread the virus into the atmosphere and once the world is infected, only those deemed worthy will survive and grow stronger. A race of superhumans will emerge and I will be the creator!”

“You're delusional, Wesker! Living with your god complex, you're nothing but a monster.”

He smiled. “The right to play God... That right is now mine.”

“Let her go, Wesker! Let's finish this. I'm not going to let you release the virus. I'll put an end to this now.”

His enemy shoved Claire at him, running to the stairs. Chris caught her before she could fall down. Her father rushed over to take her from the agent, who turned back to Wesker on the stairs. 

“Wesker!” he angrily shouted.

He got a chillingly wicked laugh in return. “Six billion cries of agony will birth a new balance. Unfortunately, you will not live to see the dawn.”

A hooded and cloaked figure came walking in through one of the front doors right then. The door closed with a resounding thud behind the person as he or she walked toward them. The hooded figure kept their head down and stood next to Wesker without much sound. When he didn't lower his gun or stop glaring at Wesker, the man smirked. He had that “I know something you don't” look in his eyes, and Chris didn't like it one bit.

Still smirking, he said, “Why Chris... I'd expect you to be happier to see us again after all this time.”

“Us?” he asked, puzzled.

The smile on Wesker's face widened. “Always so slow to catch on.”

He reached around and pulled the hood back and off the cloaked figure's face. It revealed a woman his age, with blonde hair pulled back in a ponytail and pale blue eyes. She looked almost as if the very color had been wiped from her hair and eyes at some point. Her gaze was as expressionless as Wesker's gaze was often. His puzzlement switched to shock and disbelief.

“Jill...” 

He couldn't believe what he was seeing but grew confident, realizing his hope and suspicion she was alive had been proven true. 

“Jill! It's me, Chris!” he said, lowering his gun.

She didn't respond at all when he called out to her.

Jill was a member of the BSAA. She was his partner. They survived tons of hellish situations and bullshit. The partner everyone said was dead and needed to be buried. She wasn't dead. Jill was standing right in this room but on the wrong side. Instead of standing by Chris, she was with Wesker.

His teammate, David, looked at him stunned. “What? Are you sure that's her? She's been presumed dead for two years.” 

Wesker put on another smile and mockingly gestured to Jill.

“The one and only,” he told them, enjoying the shock and confusion apparent on Chris's face.

Suddenly Jill whipped off her cloak and threw it at Chris. Startled, he lifted his arms to block the cloak from smacking into his face only to find Jill attacking. He flew backward when she kicked him in the chest, and she jumped on top of him while he was in midair, forcing him down hard. His team immediately went on the offensive, as did the FBI agents. 

He concerned himself with his own people. Two BSAA soldiers moved to guard the others in the room and the other, Ethan, started shooting at Jill. 

Under fire, she responded by flipping over to Ethan and knocking the gun from his hand with a kick. She moved almost as fast as Wesker could. The two met in hand to hand combat, and amazingly, Jill flipped forward and threw Ethan over herself with just her legs. He landed rough on his back, the breath knocked out of him. 

Seeing Chris on his feet and raising his weapon, she ran for him and grabbed the arm holding the gun. Now that he was unable to get a shot off at her, not that he was entirely certain he could do it to her, she took her other hand and began choking him. He struggled against her grasp but she was pretty strong. He grunted in pain as his oxygen cut off. 

Ethan hurried to Chris's aid and put his gun to the back of Jill's head. Wesker didn't seem to approve. He knocked Ethan to the floor with an elbow to the head. At the same time, Jill punched Chris and then roundhouse kicked him. The two soldiers fell to the floor next to each other. Wesker and Jill stood together a few yards away watching them. They struggled to stand where they were driven, near the front doors, raising their weapons at the pair of enemies by the bottom of the stairs.

“I expected more of a challenge after all this time, Chris,” Wesker told him with disapproval.

A phone rang, Wesker's cell phone. He answered it, turning slightly away from the others. 

“Yes.”

Wesker listened into his phone, walking up a few stairs as he listened. Not wanting him to get away, Chris moved a few steps closer, Ethan following his lead, and yelled for Wesker to stop. He did stop. He hung up his phone and turned his head in Chris's direction with a smile that told Chris something was going to happen. 

Sure enough, Jill was on them in the blink of an eye. She elbowed Ethan in the chest and face before sending him flying to the right wall with a strong thrust kick. Then she was attacking Chris. Jill grabbed his arm, keeping the gun out of her way and hit him in the chest. He released a yell of pain as she threw him to the ground and straddled him. Yanking his arm back, it sent his gun skittering across the floor. 

She kept the arm held at the painful angle. He was incredibly irritated this was happening with so many presumably capable men present. He struggled in vain to get free, his arm pulled toward the breaking point. 

Desperately he tried to reach out to his old friend. “Jill, come on! It's me, Chris! Snap out of it!”

Wesker walked over to where Jill held him to the floor and smiled down.

“Nice move, Chris,” he said, tone mocking. “But now that your partner has arrived. I'll leave you two to catch up.”

Wesker headed back to the staircase.

She yanked harder and Chris cried out in pain and frustration. “Come on, Jill! Get yourself together! Wake up! Jill Valentine!”

Familiar blue eyes stared down from where she struggled to keep him held in place and something changed in the way she was looking. Recognition crept into her face.

“Ch... Chris....” Jill gasped.

She released him and stumbled back, grunting in pain. Wesker paused on the bottom step.

“Remarkable! Still resisting at such an advanced stage.” 

He sounded impressed. He pulled out a handheld device and started pressing buttons. 

“Commendable, yet futile.”

Jill stopped fighting it when Wesker finished pressing the buttons. She fell to the ground, gasping for breath.

His enemy gave him a stern look. “No more time for games, Chris. I've got work to do. Have fun watching Jill suffer.”

“Wait! What did you do to her?” he yelled after him but he had moved up the stairs and was gone. 

Chris whipped around when Jill began screaming in agony. She clutched her chest tightly and fell to her knees, head tilted back as she ripped the top part of her dark colored outfit. Now visible on her chest was some sort of machine or device. It was red and dimly glowing. Jill dropped onto her hands and knees. When she lifted her head, she wore the look of anger she had when fighting them. Her expression was hostile. 

Ethan glanced sideways at Chris. “What's that on her chest?”

He eyed the strange device. “We have to get it off her!”

One of the civilians distracted him, wandering into his line of sight. “It appears something is getting pumped into her bloodstream via that device.”

“Yeah. Get back.”

“I'm a doctor. Not medical or anything but... My name is Yasir Patel. I-”

“Yeah, yeah,” Chris grunted and grew alarmed, shoving the doctor aside. “Move!”

Jill attacked and he and Ethan fought her to defend themselves. He ordered the others to stay back. Chris made his way behind her while she was attacking the other BSAA soldier and grabbed on, holding her in place.

“Okay! Shoot it!” he yelled.

She struggled violently and it was difficult to keep her steady. Ethan aimed, his hands trembling a bit. He was nervous about accidentally hitting her and so was Chris, but they had to get rid of it. Jill was starting to break free.

“Go on! Shoot!” 

Chris's grip began to slip and Ethan fired. The bullet pierced the glowing red device and Chris reached around and ripped it off with some effort. Sounds of discomfort and pain came from Jill as she staggered backward. She collapsed to the floor, eyes closed.

“Jill!” He ran to her and held her in his arms. “Are you alright?”

She opened her eyes and looked at him tiredly. “Chris... I'm so sorry...”

He smiled down at her. “It's okay.”

“I couldn't control my actions. Oh, but God..I was still aware. The things he made me do... I infected people, killed them, hurt innocents. It made me sick but I couldn't resist. Forgive me.”

Her breathing was rough and she seemed to struggle for air as she spoke.

“Jill... Why are you talking like this? I saved you. You're going to be okay.”

She stared up at him from where he held her and smiled in sadness. 

“You did save me. But I was dead before you ever got here. The fall would have killed me two years ago, Chris. It should have killed me but then Wesker put this thing on my chest and it kept me alive. It also kept me in his control. You freed me but I can't go on anymore.”

Chris shook his head in denial. “No! Don't say that. I'll find a way to keep you alive. I won't let you die, Jill.”

Her smile deepened. “My body's broken. For coming for me... For saving me... Thank you.”

Her breathing became quieter and less frequent. 

“Jill, no! You can't die. Please, I love you...” he confessed to her, voice gripped with emotion.

The smile left her face and she lifted a hand to caress his cheek. She spoke his name, barely above a whisper. Her hand fell limp to her side and her gaze froze in place. Pale blue eyes stared lifelessly up at the ceiling and a sob escaped him. He held her to him as tears of anger and grief fell down his face. 

He couldn't bring her back to life with pleas. 

“Please... You can't die. Jill...” 

Chris buried his face in her shoulder and a loud sob came from him. 

After a few moments, he lowered the woman gently to the floor and stood. He turned away so he wouldn't have to see her body. There was a mission to see through to the end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I like Jill so looking back at this old work, I think the reason I decided to kill her was for one reason. It seemed really unlikely a person could survive the fall she took two years ago in the first place. You could argue she landed on Wesker, but he managed to get her somewhere he could put her on life support fast? Why would he bother? I don't think he knew about the antibodies in her body until after he decided to save her life. 
> 
> What is Wesker's deal? I WANT TO KNOW, CAPCOM. Their response is always just to make a villain crazy. Very original. (Sarcasm)


	3. Reliving a Nightmare

“Is she gonna be a zombie?” the younger of the two brothers asked no one in particular.

Steven, Chris recalled. The other was..Nathan. Right. He made a conscious effort to conceal any emotions leaking into his posture or expression. He couldn't let grief get in the way of the mission.

“Oh yeah,” the other brother said. “Shoot her in the head or she'll eat our guts.”

“It's brains, idiot.”

“They eat people. They eat every fleshy piece of a person,” Nathan argued.

Steven laughed at him. “That's cannibals!”

“Zombies _are_ cannibals!”

The father of the girl stepped in to add his two cents. “No one is touching her. We have to preserve the body.”

“Preserve the body?” Agent Anderson repeated. “Are you police?”

“I was law enforcement once,” he answered, turning to Chris. “My name is Noel Jones, Agent Redfield. You're BSAA and that makes you the expert on this here. What can you tell us?”

He used the opportunity to resume a professional, authoritative demeanor.

“Jill can't get infected with the T-Virus anymore. I don't really know about other viruses. We better hope this place isn't leaking a deadly pathogen.” He scanned the assembled group, pausing on the two dead bodies. “Josh should be alright too. He didn't get infected before dying.”

Claire stepped closer to her father. “Are you sure?”

“If this place is anything like the mansion from ten years ago, there might be monsters somewhere else in the mansion. The only way to kill the undead is decapitation or a headshot. You have to destroy the brain.”

“I don't think there are any, um..zombies here,” Dr. Patel commented, clearly skeptical such undead creatures would be where they are.

“You are incorrect,” a female voice spoke up.

A girl looking to be around Claire's age had entered the room through the double doors on the left unnoticed. She couldn't have been more than a few inches taller than five feet. She swept long strands of straight blonde hair behind her shoulder. Startlingly bright green eyes met his guarded gaze.

“You get emotional, you die,” she said to him, putting away her gun. “I don't know the rest of these people, but I don't think I'll have to worry about that getting the better of you.”

She was wearing black combat pants, a black t-shirt, black combat boots, and a belt which held multiple items. Armed like she was as well, Chris had to be suspicious of who she might be despite her young age. What was she doing here?

The girl strolled up to them and stopped next to Jill's body. “My name is Eva Jane. I'm here to get you people out of this mansion.”

“And why would you do that?” Noel Jones asked her, suspicious with good reason.

“Why do you want to know?”

Noel was surprised by her question and so Eva responded to his reaction.

“When people ask a question, all that really matters is why they want to know the answer.”

The man fell silent as he tried to make sense of what she told him.

“Chris Redfield?” she asked, turning her attention on him.

“Yeah, but how did you-?”

“Don't ask because I won't answer. You are going to lead us out of this place and I'll assist. But you're the one who knows exactly what's going to happen, when and where.”

He stared blankly. “What? How would I?”

Eva spoke as if the answer was obvious. “Because Chris, this is the mansion you know. This is the exact mansion you were trapped in ten years ago.”

There was a moment of quiet as everyone took in this information.

“That's impossible,” he finally said.

The front door slammed open and three people stumbled into the foyer. They were see-through though. Blurry, almost like they were on a video screen. All three were dressed in combat uniforms and each uniform had STARS lettering across it. He was seeing a much younger Jill, himself, and Wesker.

Chris couldn't look away from the woman in her early twenties, hair bunched up under her beret. When he did shift his stare, his eyes went to the woman's body on the floor. She was too young to die. She wasn't supposed to die.

“Is that the same person, Dad?” he heard Claire whisper.

The image of Jill in her STARS uniform was standing right next to her actual body on the floor. Eva Jane backed off, speculatively watching the people who weren't truly present. His younger self appeared much more carefree and happy to him. He had no idea the nightmare the night would become.

“What is this?” Chris asked the teenager, who seemed to think she had all the answers. “How am I seeing what happened then?”

“Everything in this mansion is going to play out exactly as it did that night, ten years ago,” she explained. “We will use it to our advantage. It should help us find our way out.”

The answer lost him. “But why...?”

This newcomer shrugged. “It's necessary. Just consider these ghosts of the past. Or spirits is probably a better choice seeing as how some of those images aren't dead. Hmm..yes. Images is a good word for it.”

The young girl seemed to be taking this in stride and he couldn't understand how it was possible. Everyone else seemed pretty bewildered. Chris had the suspicion she didn't know why the images were appearing but didn't ask any more questions because the image of Jill was speaking. He turned to watch.

 _“Wesker... Where's Barry?”_ Jill asked, sounding worried as she searched around her.

The captain glanced to the doors they had come through. _“He must be...”_

 _“No...”_ Jill said, knowing if Barry was still out there he was probably dead.

A gunshot came from a room somewhere farther in the mansion, beyond the double doors on their left.

 _“Chris, go check it out,”_ Wesker ordered.

His young self nodded and jogged over to the double doors but paused when Jill called out.

_“Chris!”_

He looked back at her. Jill seemed about to say something but instead chose to speak different words.

_“Be careful.”_

Her teammate nodded. _“I will.”_

He turned and went through the doors. Eva then turned and watched Chris with expectation. He stopped ignoring her stare and returned the look.

“So we follow the image of my past self and this is going to somehow get us to where we want to go?” the BSAA agent asked, trying to understand how that was true and finding it rather ridiculous.

Eva nodded once. “Correct. Let's go.”

“Just answer me this. How old are you?”

Eva hesitated before answering, “Seventeen. Now can we go?”

“Yeah. Now we can go,” he said with a small smile.

He was satisfied to have gotten something out of this secretive young girl.

Chris commanded his men to take the rear and the rest followed behind him and Eva. He had civilians in his care and that was not going to make things easier. Quite the opposite. Before he went through the doors, he paused and looked back at Jill's body one last time.

They entered the next room which was a dining hall. Maybe the girl was right on this being the precise mansion from a decade in the past. Eva stopped when her cell phone rang.

She answered the phone. “Yes.”

Chris stared. The way she answered the phone made him study her features more closely. Why did she seem familiar to him? Chris was certain he never met this girl before today. Then why did he feel as if he recognized her from somewhere? He couldn't place it...

As Eva listened to whoever was on the other line, her face fell.

“So there's someone else playing a role in this then...” Eva said into the phone. “Understood. I will be there shortly.”

“Who was that? What's wrong?” Chris questioned.

“I must go.”

“Go? This was your idea!”

Eva was barely listening. She was looking upward, searching for something.

“I will find you,” she said, and left through the double doors.

“Eva!” he yelled after her but received no answer.

“Chris, there's blood,” one of his soldiers, Martin, pointed out.

Martin was the farthest in the room and he stood by a fireplace built into the wall opposite the doors they came through. Chris jogged over but he calmed when he saw the puddle of blood.

“That's not a normal attitude for someone looking at a puddle of blood on the floor,” Dr. Patel remarked, looking a little put off.

“This blood was here that night. It's not really there now.”

To prove his point, he reached down and placed a finger in the pool of blood. He withdrew the finger and held it up for them to see. There was no blood so they could see it wasn't real too.

“Creepy,” Claire muttered.

Her father glanced at her but said nothing. Silently, he was agreeing with her. Chris focused and started leading them out of the room. He hesitated in the doorway.

“What is it?” Jones asked.

“I found Kenneth right after this. That blood could have been his or an undead monster he put down.”

He moved into the hall and went to the left. The group soon saw what Chris had been telling them. A hideously rotting creature in a worn and decayed suit was bent over a uniformed body. The disgusting slurping sounds that emanated from the zombie biting the dead man's neck were horrible.

Claire got a look at the victim's face and gasped. His eyes and mouth were open in terror and pain. He had died in immense agony. The zombie most likely had bitten into his neck until he bled out. Protectively, Jones blocked the corpse from his daughter's view and Chris reminded the nightmarish image was fake.

Impatient, Jones asked, “Can we continue?”

He was anxious to get out of that room. In fact, everyone seemed to be feeling similar. Chris couldn't believe how real it all seemed. He swore he could smell rotting flesh of the undead creature, but it had to be his imagination.

“How disgusting,” said the pale guy in plain clothes, staring down at the sight.

“Clam it, Lucas,” Agent Anderson barked.

The people who were associates of the man, glanced at him with disbelieving eyes. Chris studied the federal agents looking at this man. What could he offer which caused them to give him a pass?

Lucas took in their looks without much outward reaction. “What? I didn't eat the people I killed.”

He raised an eyebrow at his blatant admittance he killed people. He didn't seem the slightest bit remorseful. Surely the federal government wasn't in the business of cooperating with serial killers out in the field.

“Who did you kill?” Chris asked.

Before anyone could answer, one of Agent Anderson's men spoke nervously.

“Um... Sir, I think it's noticing us.”

The lead agent appeared confused. “What are you talking-?”

He stopped short when he saw what his soldier meant. The zombie had halted eating and was turning its head slowly to look at them. It couldn't sense them, right?

“Where did my past self go? The zombie's supposed to come after me and I run and report to Wesker. Well I was going to, but Wesker and Jill disappeared.”

No one knew how to answer and they shouldn't. They didn't know what was supposed to happen any more than he did. The zombie was standing up now and it turned toward the closest person, who happened to be Anderson's man with the warning.

“Huanghh...”

The zombie groaned pitifully and its rotting hands latched onto the soldier's shoulders. He shouted warning to the federal agent but the creature threw its head against his neck and bit down. The man let loose an agonizing scream as the zombie started chewing on his neck.

“Holy shit that thing's real!” David shouted in horror and disbelief.

Annoyed, Agent Anderson lifted his handgun and fired a round at point blank range, straight into the zombie's head. The undead creature's skull exploded in a spray of brain matter and gore against the opposite wall. It fell to the carpet and ceased further movement. Anderson's man stumbled back against the far wall and sank into a sitting position, clutching the wound in his neck. He was in tremendous pain.

“Am I gonna turn into one of those things?” the young agent asked, panicking.

“Is there a cure of some kind?” Dr. Patel questioned.

Chris shook his head. “Not here and there's no way he'd make it long enough for us to find and administer the cure.”

Rolling his eyes, Lucas patted an FBI agent on the arm.

“He's going to die. Shoot him so he can't turn. Then can we move on? I don't plan on spending the rest of my life with you people in this place.”

“Who are you? Do you have something to do with Umbrella?” he demanded in a hostile tone.

“It's nothing you need to know,” Agent Anderson insisted.

“Oh shit... I don't wanna turn into one of those things,” Anderson's injured man murmured.

He the distrust among the group aside. He seemed completely out of it from the pain and shock of being bitten. How fast did the fever set in? Chris couldn't recall the specifics. Infection varied from individual to individual.

“I'm not gonna become one of those freaks.”

Anderson looked at his subordinate and his eyes widened when he saw what the injured man was about to do.

“No, don't!” he shouted, helpless.

It was no use. The bleeding man pointed his gun under his chin and fired, quickly ending his life. Chris looked on without much expression, although he did feel bad the teenage girl had to see such a thing. Mostly he was just feeling tired of things like this.

“If every one of the monsters are back in this mansion...” They had to know the facts. “We may not all make it out of here.”

Jones's expression was grave. “What other kinds of creatures are in this place?”

Chris lifted his eyes to meet his gaze. “Come on. We should keep moving.”

It didn't escape them that he failed to answer the question. He didn't have time to take care of each of their worries. Moving was the safest bet.

He led them through the door connected to the room which now contained three dead bodies and into the next. The sounds of birds crowing insistently echoed throughout the dimly lit room. As they filed through, several crows sat around on top of high shelves. The birds intently observed from above as they came through and Chris glanced upward with a sharp glare.

“Careful. They may not look it, but in groups those infected crows will tear you to shreds. Forrest learned the hard way.”

There were stairs which Chris led them up and he took them through the door. He walked inside a few feet and came to an immediate halt. They were in what appeared to be an attic room which was very dusty and rather dark.

“This isn't right. This room shouldn't be here,” he told the others. “This room was on the second floor on the other side of the mansion. Not here...”

“This appears to be a dead end. Let's go back through the other door,” suggested David.

He was still frozen in place, staring into the room and racking his brain.

“Chris,” Ethan said, concerned.

“We have to get that mask.”

Everyone looked at what he meant and saw what he saw. On the other side of the room, there was a gray-white mask glinting slightly in the moonlight coming from the small windows near the ceiling.

Steven glanced at the soldiers standing around and then the mask. “Okay. I'll get it. Think it's valuable, Nathan?”

He started forward. Chris grabbed his arm and pulled him back.

“What?” he asked, impatient.

“This is where there was a giant snake. I'll get the mask. Ethan, David, Martin. Watch my back. The rest of you should get out of the room.”

Agent Anderson was quick to agree. “We'll leave this to you.”

Chris started for the other side of the room at a slow jog. He was nearly to it when the roof broke inward and a snake much bigger than any he'd seen since, slithered out of the hole. Its head positioned right in front of him. The snake hissed, enormous mouth opening to expose fangs. Poisonous fangs. He remembered that fact well.

“Shit!” Ethan shouted and opened fire on the snake.

Chris threw himself out of the way as the snake reared its head back and attacked. The giant reptile missed him and was hit by a spatter of bullets which didn't do much. The snake's eyes locked on the gunmen and it dropped fully onto the floor, easily taking up most of the ground.

“Aaaughh!” Martin screeched as the snake picked him up in its mouth.

The soldier was swallowed whole, his screams abruptly silenced.

“You motherfucker!” Ethan cursed and fired at the snake in fury.

Clicking empty, Ethan pulled out a combat knife and charged the giant creature. Chris tried to warn him off the reckless action he was taking.

“Ethan, no!”

The snake bit into Ethan's mid-section and lifted him to consume. Before the snake could do so, David shot it a few times. The serpent released Ethan with a screech of pain and the soldier fell to the ground.

David continued shooting the snake and Chris joined in. A third shooter added his firepower to the mix and after a minute the writhing snake gave a final cry of anguish before collapsing onto the ground, motionless. The reptile's eyes were still open but only the whites of the eyes could be seen. Its mouth hung partially ajar, tongue hanging limply out one side. It was dead.

He looked at the FBI agent who came to help. “Thanks.”

Chris went over and grabbed the mask, hurrying to Ethan's side then. Dr. Patel and the FBI agent were there as well. They seemed to know how to supply medical aid but the damage was severe. Both of the snake's big fangs had gone through Ethan's stomach, and besides the deadly poison working its way through the soldier's body, he lost a lot of blood.

Ethan wheezed loudly, desperate to gain air. It was a losing battle. Damn it. Dr. Patel felt Ethan's chest and placed his head close, listening.

“One of the fangs punctured a lung,” he informed Chris.

He merely nodded and held Ethan until his last breath escaped him and he moved no more. Soldiers were prepared to die. It didn't make it better, just the norm. David muttered to himself, pissed and sad.

Chris and Dr. Patel stood. He picked up Ethan's knife which had fallen beside its owner. With a frustrated cry of fury, he threw the knife into the far wall. The act was followed by a string of curses.

“Why do I have to relive this nightmare? Why?” he screamed at the room in general.

David placed a hand on his shoulder. “Come on, man. Let's get out of here.”

Chris kicked the head of the dead snake and looked down at the mask two of his men died to procure.

“If we have to find the other three masks so help me God...”

Dr. Patel and the FBI agent exchanged looks. Yeah. Three more masks? Indeed, God help them, Chris figured they could be thinking.

Fortunately, there was no need to find the other masks. When they left the way they came with the rest of the group, instead of arriving in the room with the crows, they were in a room lit only by a boiler and a couple torches hanging on the wall. Immediately to their left were statues with four different faces carved in. Three masks were on three of the statues and Chris moved over to place the final mask on the fourth.

“So what happens now?” Agent Anderson asked.

Chris didn't need to answer. As soon as the mask was in place, a loud grinding sound came from above and behind the group. They all turned to watch as a metal coffin, leaking what appeared to be blood, fell to the stone floor with a resounding crash. Anderson started toward the metal box with a frown. It was written on his face that he didn't see how this could help them. He understood the feeling, remembering the running around solving puzzles and locks dilemma he faced in the past. He also remembered something else.

“I wouldn't do that if I were you. The coffin contains what used to be Trevor.”

“And who is this Trevor?” Anderson asked, approaching the coffin with caution.

“He designed the mansion we're in. His wife and daughter were experimented on when Spencer decided to kill him. I hope we don't run into his kid. I already told you what she became because of the virus. I don't want to have to see that poor child again.”

The FBI agent didn't seem to comprehend why any of it mattered.

“So the architect of the mansion's corpse is in there, big deal. Why should I be afraid?”

Upset, David snapped at the other. “Have you seen what happens to things that die around here, huh? Are you that big of an idiot?”

He was getting riled up. It was likely he would be permanently on edge because of what happened to their fellow teammates. Anderson hesitated as he reached the coffin and looked back at him.

“If it's not just a body, what's in there?”

“A kind of super zombie,” he answered, aware of how silly it sounded.

“There are super zombies?” Jones asked, eyebrows lifting.

Chris sighed, tired. “You don't even want to know what I've all had to fight in my entire life. I guess eventually it becomes simpler to believe and deal with, though it's never easier to accept.”

“I'll make sure to be extra careful,” Anderson said patronizingly.

He kicked the lid off of the coffin but the decaying corpse did not move. He glanced up.

“Guess you were wrong.”

“Ngauuh.”

An unsettling noise emanated from the corpse in the coffin. It bolted upright quickly and reached to grab Anderson at a much faster speed than the other zombie they encountered.

“Oh no you don't!” the agent shouted.

He turned, aimed fast, and fired two rounds into the super zombie's skull. The creature crumpled to the stone floor, falling out of its coffin.

“Quick bastard,” he cursed.

“Told you.”

The man missed his last comment as he had spotted something in the coffin.

“What's this?” Anderson muttered, reaching in to retrieve the item.

He held a small journal in clear view of the group. Chris walked over, accepting the book and flipping it open to the last few entries.

“It's Trevor's diary.”

“Read it,” said one of Anderson's remaining two men.

Many of the others looked in surprise. Chris glanced at him and then at the others. No one moved to object to the idea. He didn't see the need for it but cleared his throat to read out loud for them.

_“November 24, 1967. Eleven days have passed since arriving on this estate. How did I end up like this? A guy in a lab coat came with a plate of skimpy meal and said to me, “Sorry to put you through this, but it's for security reasons.” That's when it hit me. It all makes sense now. There are only two people that know the secret of this mansion, Sir Spencer and myself. If they kill me, Sir Spencer will be the only person that knows the secret. But for what purpose? It doesn't matter now. It's too dangerous here. My family... I hope they are all right. I've decided to escape... Jessica, Lisa, I pray you are safe._

_“November 26, 1967. How could I be so careless? I lost my favorite lighter-the one Jessica gave me for my birthday. Now it's going to be that much harder to get out of this dark place._

_“November 13th, the date when my fate was sealed. My aunt was hospitalized just three days before that. Jessica and Lisa said that they were going to visit her. I wish I could be there with them. But wait, even as I'm writing my memory is coming back to me more vividly. Just before I passed out, I remember the men in the lab coats said something like, “Most likely your family is already...” I pray for their safety.”_

“Is this really necessary? The ramblings of a dead man?” Anderson asked impatiently.

“With all do respect, sir, shut up,” his man said with complete seriousness. “I want to hear this. Besides, maybe we can learn something useful from a guy who built the place we're trying to get out of.”

Anderson's eyes widened at the disrespect, but he did have a point.

“Fine, Jefferson. We'll hear the rest..”

Chris lowered his gaze to the diary pages and continued reading.

_“November 27, 1967. Somehow I managed to get out of that room. But getting out of this mansion won't be as easy. I have to get past all the booby traps. Tiger eyes, Gold Emblem... I have to try and remember for my own sake._

_“November 29, 1967. I can't get out. I have tried every possible way to escape but only to be faced with the reality that I'm trapped. I've been everywhere. The laboratory with the large glass tubes filled with formaldehyde and those dark, wet and eerie caves... What can I do? At first I didn't want to believe my eyes. But that familiar high-heeled shoe in the corridor... It was like reflex. One name came to my mind, Jessica! I don't want to believe they share the same fate as me. No! I can't give up hope. I have to hope they're alive._

_“November 30, 1967. I haven't had anything to eat or drink for the past few days I feel like I'm going crazy. Why is this happening to me? Why do I have to die like this? I was too obsessed with designing this ghastly mansion. I should have known better._

_“November 31, 1967. It was a dark and damp underground tunnel. And another dead end. But even in the darkness something caught my eye. Carefully, I lit the last match, I had to see what it was. A grave! But deeply engraved into the stone was my name! “George Trevor”. At that instant, it all became clear to me. Those bastards knew from the beginning that I'd die here and I fell right into their trap. But it's too late now. I'm losing it. Everything is becoming so far away. Jessica... Lisa... Forgive me. Because of my ego, I got both of you involved in this whole damn conspiracy. Forgive me. May God justify my death in exchange for your safety. George Trevor.”_

He closed the diary and gazed down at the remains of George Trevor.

“Poor son of a bitch...” murmured Jefferson.

Chris frowned. He felt something in the back of the book. He tilted the diary and a shiny object fell to the floor with a metal clang. He bent to retrieve it.

“A key?” Jones uttered.

“A gold key,” Chris confirmed, thinking on where that door might have been.

Great. Now they had to find a door which unlocked with a gold key...


	4. Hunters

They exited the room and walked through a cemetery, finding themselves back in the main foyer area but on the second landing. Chris confirmed this was the correct layout of the mansion he remembered. He led the way to the left, up stairs to a single door which the gold key thankfully went to. His memory was serving him well.

Their group moved into the next room. A red carpeted hallway lay before them. The first of them barely stepped into this new area when he stopped short and they all followed his example, listening.

“Hnnnhh...huaaah...hnnnnhhhhh...”

The low, sad moans of several zombies could be heard from somewhere in the hall. David motioned to Chris he would lead the way and defuse the situation. He listened to shuffling sounds, most likely the undead creatures walking about. David went forward with his rifle raised. Turning the corner to the left, he fired twice. He fired three more times. There was a loud thud of something heavy falling to the floor and then another thud soon after.

David motioned for the rest of the group to follow but raised a hand for them to stop as sudden. The look on his face was one of uncertainty. The rest saw why this was when a young woman in a STARS uniform came running around the corner. She headed straight toward them without noticing anyone. Short, boyishly cut hair and a youthful face. Rebecca.

The woman had an expression of worry and fright but also grim determination. She passed directly through Chris's body and through the others as she ran past, exiting through the door they arrived. He wondered how the real Rebecca was doing now. Years had gone by since their last contact.

“Did you know her?” Nathan asked, noticing his gaze rooted to the spot she disappeared.

He blinked a couple times and pulled himself back to the present.

“Yeah. That was Rebecca Chambers. Smart kid. She was only eighteen and on her first mission for STARS as a medic. Rebecca was the sole survivor of Bravo team.”

“Chris! Looks like another diary. This one was laying on the floor on some broken glass,” David reported.

The team commander walked over to him as the group gathered in the small hallway the best they could. He glanced around at the other people. It was his responsibility to get them to safety. He couldn't keep his teammates alive and yet he was trying to keep the noncombatants out of harm too. It wouldn't be easy.

“Maybe there will be something useful in here,” David said, hopeful as he handed him the diary.

He inclined his head downward. “Maybe.”

“Think this painting is valuable?” Steven asked his brother in a low voice.

The BSAA agent frowned at them, wondering on the interest in artifacts. They both fell quiet and stared in opposite directions because of his attention. He never did ask what they happened to be doing at an abandoned pharmaceutical building. They could have been walking by it, he supposed. Just his luck, they were people he'd have to keep an eye on as well.

He opened the book and flipped to the last pages. “These dates are about two months before we came that time. It was July 24, 1998 when we stumbled upon this mansion. I'll never forget the date.”

Chris exhaled slowly before he started to read.

_“May 9, 1998. At night, we played poker with Scott the guard, Alias, and Steve the researcher. Steve was really lucky, but I think he was cheating. What a scumbag._

_“May 10, 1998. Today, a high ranking researcher asked me to take care of a new monster. It looks like a gorilla without any skin. They told me to feed them live food. When I threw in a pig, they were playing with it... Tearing off the pig's legs and pulling out the guts before they actually ate it.”_

He paused in his reading, shuddering involuntarily. He remembered those things.

David expressed concern. “Are you alright, Chris?”

“They're called chimeras...”

He spaced out as he said it, recalling vivid memories of being chased, their sharp slashing...

“Chris?” his teammate questioned.

“Sorry, just remembering the horrible way they looked, the sounds they made... Sorry.”

_“May 11, 1998. Around 5 o'clock this morning, Scott came in and woke me up suddenly. He was wearing a protection suit that looks like a space suit. He told me to put one on as well. I heard there was an accident in the basement lab. It's no wonder, those researchers never rest, even at night.”_

“Must be when the virus first leaked,” David surmised.

Chris nodded in agreement and without lifting his eyes from the pages, read on.

_“May 12, 1998. I've been wearing this annoying space suit since yesterday. My skin grows musty and feels very itchy. By way of revenge, I didn't feed those dogs today. Now I feel better._

_“May 13, 1998. I went to the medical room because my back is all swollen and feels itchy. They put a big bandage on my back and the doctor told me I didn't need to wear the space suit anymore. I guess I can sleep well tonight._

_“May 14, 1998. When I woke up this morning, I found another blister on my foot. It was annoying and I ended up dragging my foot as I went to the dogs' pen. They have been quiet since morning, which is very unusual. I found that some of them escaped. I'll be in real trouble if some of the higher-ups find out._

_“May 15, 1998. Even though I didn't feel well, I decided to go see Nancy. It's my first day off in a long time. But I was stopped by the guard on the way out. They say the company has ordered that no one leave the grounds. I can't even make a phone call. What kind of joke is this?!_

_“May 16, 1998. I heard a researcher who tried to escape from this mansion was shot last night. My entire body feels burning and itchy at night. When I was scratching the swelling on my arm, a lump of rotten flesh dropped off. What the hell is happening to me?”_

He briefly hesitated. He knew what was happening to this worker and they probably figured it out too. Was there anything useful in this guy's writing? He glanced at the next entry and saw there was not, but read it out loud for the others anyway.

_“May 19, 1998. Fever gone but itchy. Hungry and eat doggy food. Itchy itchy Scott came. Ugly face so killed him. Tasty. 4 Itchy. Tasty.”_

“How could such a horrible thing happen and nobody heard about it?” Claire demanded, sounding upset.

He sadly shook his head. “Umbrella was good at covering their tracks. Five years ago we finally brought the truth about them into the public eye. Wesker played a part in that. He testified against Umbrella to bring them down.”

“He helped? Why would he do that and then try to spread a different virus himself?” asked Agent Anderson.

“Wesker cares about Wesker. He probably wanted the viruses for himself and Umbrella got in the way of his plans.”

“I really think we need to get out of this mansion,” Steven determined, apparently not a fan of Chris shrugging off potential cataclysmic, world-ending viruses and threats.

David agreed whole-heartedly. “I second that. Let's get the hell out.”

He did a quick tally of heads. Their group consisted of Steven, Nathan, Jones, Claire, Dr. Patel, Lucas, Anderson, two of Anderson's agents, David, and himself. They continued along the red carpeted hallway while he internally sighed having to be concerned with so many people. Eleven people he had to get out alive.

Chris led the way and made the left turn. He stopped at the second door on the right, the first one locked, and went in. It was an office which they passed through to get to a door on the other side. The door took them into another hall near a set of stairs which the BSAA agent started down. He was glad he knew where he was going.

“What's that sound?”

Everyone halted in their tracks to fix their eyes on Lucas, who was at the back of the group. Everyone else had meandered down the dark corridor ahead, curious what might be down there. Lucas was by the door they came through, near David. At the bottom of the stairs, Chris looked upward to him.

“What do you hear?”

The other frowned, listening harder as he moved near the set of stairs. “It sounds like slow but heavy, kinda plodding steps. Doesn't sound human. Coming from the door right across from you. No wait, it's speeding up.”

Alarmed, he twisted to face the specified door. He could hear them now. The footsteps sounded kind of wet and they were getting louder.

He raised his gun to the door across from him. No sooner had he done this, the door knob started to turn. Everyone except him and David reacted in shock or fear as a reptilian creature about five feet tall padded through the doorway. He registered long arms and rather large, razor sharp claws on each hand and foot.

As soon as the door was open all the way, it came running at him and he threw himself out of its path. Two shots and the thing was still spry. The hunter inexplicably moved around him, picking up speed, and leaped to attack the other BSAA agent with a shrill cry. Maybe it didn't like the gun he was pointing. The creature didn't seem to notice the others.

David fired but could also tell much like Chris had, his gun wasn't going to do enough to bring it down in the time available. He jumped left, into a small space where there was another door, effectively backing himself into a corner. Thinking fast, he bustled inside and slammed the door shut behind him. The creature put a claw mark on the floor where David had been moments earlier. Instead of pursuing further, the monster slowly turned and fixed its eyes on the large group of possible prey.

Chris fired his gun, Agent Anderson and his two men doing the same. The creature continued toward him in spite of the bullets hitting it. Suddenly springing to his left, it attacked one of Anderson's men, who stood near him on the lower staircase. With a single swipe, the agent's head fell from his body.

Anderson fired at the monster point blank multiple times and it flew backward off the stairs. Falling onto its back in a pool of expanding blood, the creature writhed until it finally died and went still. But there was no time to relax. Drawn by the noise, two more creatures identical to the first came plodding through the open door at a run.

David, Anderson, and the other FBI agent fired upon the first while the second creature sprang up and landed on the second floor landing, right next to Dr. Patel and Lucas. Lucas tried to shove it off the balcony with all his strength. The creature stumbled a bit before angrily hissing at him. Chris tried to see where he could intercede when he was over here and it was a moving target among friendlies.

It swung a clawed hand at Lucas and he shrank away, ducking the attack. Nathan charged forward and rammed the creature with his shoulder. The monster fell to the floor below and jumped on its feet, releasing a shriek of fury.

What they hadn't counted on was it ignoring the other bystanders and setting its kill instinct on the one who hit him. It leaped back to the second floor landing, aiming to kill the terrified man.

His brother got in front of him and waved his hands like that might frighten it away. It stalked toward them, claws up. Breaking into a run, the creature attacked with the sweep of a claw.

“Run!”

Chris looked at the younger brother who shouted the warning and gaped a fraction. He was holding a grenade in his hand. The other men didn't have much room to run, but they sure tried to put as much distance between the grenade's target and themselves. Steven threw it and lucked out.

The hunter caught the thrown object in its mouth, thinking it was something to eat or something to break. The ensuing explosion blew it to bits. Numerous disgusting, gory bits.

In the meantime, the FBI agents ran out of ammo and his man panicked.

“Hold your place!” Anderson yelled, but the other man ran for the open door, trying to make it past the creature.

He didn't get far because as soon as he got past the monster, it latched on, jumping onto his back. The man screamed in agony, the monster's claws digging into his back. It ripped through flesh, muscle, and bone. When the victim stopped moving, it turned its head to the nearest prey, which happened to be him standing by the foot of the stairs. Of course as luck would have it, the BSAA soldier raised his weapon to fire, only to hear a dry click. The creature started lumbering in his direction and he berated himself for not keeping better count of his ammunition.

“Hey, you ugly reptilian bastard!”

David was leaving the office room their group used to get to this area of the mansion. The door he dove through must have returned him to the hallway and he just took the same doors they did again. There was a gun in his hand. Silver, unlike his other gun, and the weapon appeared to have a rotating chamber. The soldier glared at the creature as it gazed in his direction with beady black eyes.

“Chew on this!” he yelled and fired a bullet into its head.

“Hrraaaooh!”

The monster shrieked in agony and dropped to the floor, spasming erratically until it ceased any movement whatsoever. A pool of blood expanded beneath it. Chris visibly relaxed and he wasn't alone.

“Thank God for small favors,” David said, rejoining the group.

Nathan studied the silver revolver in the BSAA soldier's hands. “Wow. That looks really nice. Antique maybe even.”

“Could be worth a pretty penny,” Steven remarked.

The soldier absorbed the knowledge there were two dead agents. Coming to where Chris was standing on the lower floor, he passed the weapon to him.

“Powerful magnum,” David said, impressed.

Chris received the gun and checked it out. His teammate passed him spare bullets. He counted eleven rounds to use with the magnum. This whole day was turning out to be entirely unpredictable. Might come in handy later.

His expression changed to uncomfortable realization. “Uh... How many rounds you got for your handgun?”

He had a full clip in that gun now, but it was the last of it. They ran dry shooting hunters.

“I have twelve shots. Why?”

“We're mostly out.”

He looked at the dead bodies of federal agents, not voicing they had fewer shooters who would be requiring ammo. The lead agent was staring at the bodies, looking disgruntled more than upset or sad. Was he worried about the paperwork of explaining their deaths or something?

Chris shifted his gaze to this sole remaining FBI agent. “You're out too?”

Anderson confirmed. “Yeah, I used all of it on whatever those freaks are.”

“Those were hunters,” he informed. “We're going to be in real trouble if we don't find more ammo because last time, the mansion was full of those monsters and they aren't much affected by regular bullets.”

“I noticed,” he commented.

He scanned his eyes across the rest of the group. Jones was a cop once, right? If they could locate a weapon for him, he could at least serve to defend the civilians too.

“You two. What do you do for a living?”

The brothers looked at each other and then tried to sneak glances at the federal agent frowning their way. He noticed and the suspicion in his stare increased. The BSAA agent was fairly certain they were criminals, probably of the petty sort. They didn't seem like the brightest people, but they didn't seem like the worst either. They seemed capable of keeping a cooler head than most would be in a situation like this. He would take what he could get.

“Unemployed?” tried Nathan.

Was that a question? He refrained from sighing.

“Any skills that might be useful to keep yourselves breathing?”

“I played football in high school.”

He did sigh. Well, it explained the ramming move. He'd been attempting to tackle the monster like a player could in a game.

Steven elbowed the older man in the ribs. “How is that useful?”

“Oh, cause you're the professional zombie killer in the family, huh?”

“You wanna compare skills? I'll fight you, assho-”

“Enough!”

They fell silent when Dr. Patel of all people said that. He gave props to the guy. He was a civilian scientist and clearly scared, but he was keeping it together. Claire and her father were also doing well. As bad as it was to have extra people to protect, they weren't making it difficult to guide them along.

“Okay. We're going to search these rooms as a group, careful and quiet,” Chris announced. “Let's see what we can discover without drawing unwanted attention on us.”


	5. Jill's Fate

Chris led the way with Lucas next to him on the man's own insistence. Anderson walked just behind him, staring at the back of the slender guy like his eyes were glued there. The others trailed, David and Jones at the rear with Jones's daughter in front of him but within arm's reach. He kept making sure of the distance.

They weren't ideally armed but they had enough for their odds of survival to be fair. After investigating the nearby rooms which weren't locked, they discovered several weapons in a storage room. Lucas claimed history with bio-weapons and said he could hold his own. They still didn't give him one of two discovered guns. The two handguns and additional ammo were given to those he deemed more trustworthy.

One handgun went to the former policeman. It would serve him well whether or not he retained qualifying shooting skills. Agent Anderson accepted the other one, handing off his empty gun to Dr. Patel. It could be a blunt object if a situation became personally dire for him.

David only had a knife. He didn't like it, but his teammate insisted he could rely on Chris to watch his back. Besides, he'd added, Alomar and the other team should find them soon enough and they would regroup then. He admired the confidence.

The open doorway the hunters came through brought them into a dark hall. Glancing around, he chose the door to the right, against the left wall. It was almost hidden. He thought he remembered it leading somewhere important to getting out of this place.

They found themselves outside, a brief pathway taking them to another door. This door stood open and he figured the hunters must have come from there. Moving through the open door, they walked into a storehouse and through it, ending up in a large stone courtyard. Soft padded feet could be heard in the otherwise silent night. Chris held up a hand to bring the group to a stop.

“Dogs,” he whispered.

Claire didn't seem to understand why that was cause for whispering.

“Well they're just dogs, right? Why are we being careful?”

Chris educated her. “No. _Skinless_ dogs. The guard dogs infected with the T-Virus. The ones who ate Joseph and who are the reason why we couldn't simply walk out the front door.”

She stood a little closer to her father. “Oh.”

He was contemplating the best way to get past them when Lucas strode on ahead. “I'll handle this.”

“Lucas, wait!” Chris called out.

He was ignored and the group followed to catch up at a slower, cautious pace. The sounds of several dogs growling broke the quiet night. Four, no, five skinless dogs circled the man. They were growling or preparing to attack. In a minute the dogs were dead. He raised an eyebrow.

“Where did you get that?”

Lucas had a flamethrower in his hands. It was making squeaky, breathy sounds of an empty tank. He didn't have the weapon moments ago and it was too large for concealment on a person.

“Found it over there,” he said, pointing to a case hidden completely by vines and bushes until he stepped close.

Chris stared at him, incredulous. “Have you been here before?”

Lucas dropped the spent weapon and met his increasingly suspicious gaze. “Of course not. I'm thirty-two. I would have been in college while this place was going to hell.”

He smirked, taking in his victory against the infected animals. He admired the charred, smoking bodies of the dogs. Chris thought he was far too comfortable in their dangerous and unpredictable environment.

“Maybe not... You seem to enjoy power a little too much.”

He glanced his way and also glanced at the whole group. “And what's wrong with enjoying power?”

“The last person I trusted who liked power a little too much was Wesker,” Chris responded.

This guy knew things the majority of people in the world didn't about this mansion's fate. He knew the general set-up somehow. He could accurately guess the storage location of a virtually hidden flamethrower.

Umbrella and Spencer had a tendency to reuse building designs. Flamethrowers alongside fire extinguishers seemed par for the course for the irresponsible corporation. It could be Lucas had been inside a different facility similar to the one they were in now. Could be, Lucas used to work for Umbrella.

They wouldn't get anywhere with him standing around, speculating.

Chris turned his gaze ahead. “Come on, we should keep moving.”

He started for a very old elevator shaft and saw the battery was missing.

“Okay then, the doors there I guess,” he said, looking to a metal gate across from them.

Before they could start heading over though, a familiar voice turned their attention to the area of the courtyard they left behind. Wesker from ten years ago was pacing around. It was easy to tell the difference from his past and present self not only because he was partially transparent, but because he was wearing his STARS uniform. The man was using a cell phone and he strolled near their group, clearly not seeing them.

_“Yes. Yes. It will be done,”_ Wesker said into the phone, sounding impatient and annoyed. _“But it won't be long now before they discover I'm the traitor. There are certainly enough documents around here with my name on them.”_

He paused, listening, and said, _“Of course it won't be a problem. I'm handling it. I've got the STARS running around finding keys for Spencer's ridiculous traps and puzzles. If they even make it to the labs, I've released the hunters from their cages. Don't worry, it's improbable they'll make it out alive.”_

Wesker ended the call and was putting the phone away when it started ringing.

_“Yes.”_ A moment listening. _“Calm down, Birkin.”_

Chris identified the name to the others.

“William Birkin. He was a researcher for Umbrella like Wesker. Birkin created the G-Virus which spread in Raccoon City. Umbrella murdered him and tried to steal his research before it was destroyed along with the city. He must have been infected with his G-Virus prior to death. It turned him into an uncontrollable abomination. He wasn't himself anymore and nearly killed his own daughter because of it. A rookie cop at the time, managed to take him out. My sister Claire was trapped inside the city and helped. She saved the man's kid.”

He turned his attention to the image of Wesker when the man spoke in his phone again.

_“So Marcus succeeded... The virus will undoubtedly reach Raccoon City now. It's only a matter of time. I suggest you get your family out of there before it's too late... Forget your work, Birkin. It's over. Take a sample and get out of the city.”_

Wesker put the cell phone away. He removed his sunglasses and wiped the lenses. Staring off into space straight ahead, he spoke to himself.

_“Indeed... It is time to leave the sinking ship that is Umbrella.”_

He looked at Wesker's eyes. They weren't mutated yet. His eyes had once been an interesting gray-blue. The captain put his sunglasses back on and left the courtyard, using the doors Chris and the others were going to go through.

He stared after, watching him go, thinking aloud unintentionally.

“I didn't know he was planning on leaving Umbrella from the beginning...”

“Chris.”

The whole group turned to see who was in the area with them. Eva was standing across the courtyard from the doors they had come through only minutes earlier. She strode over to them, glancing down at the recently deceased dogs as she went.

“Guess I missed the barbecue,” the girl remarked with a small smile.

“Eva, where did you go?” he asked, giving her a hard stare.

Again he was struck by how familiar she seemed. He couldn't place what it was about her.

“I was trying to find out why all of this is happening but didn't get much. However, I did learn some old friends of yours are still very much alive.”

Eva said this meaningfully to Chris. He frowned, not knowing who she could possibly mean. Before he could ask her what she meant, the FBI agent with a muted, yet obvious resentment since losing his agents, interrupted.

“I want to know why you're here. What do you have to do with all of this? Shouldn't you be in school or something?” Anderson asked, very abrupt and demeaning.

She didn't seem bothered by his unfriendly attitude. Eva looked him in the eyes and retorted, “I'm seventeen and I've finished school with a PhD in genetics, highest honors.”

Everyone was appropriately stunned by the revelation. She had to be a major genius. Agent Anderson clenched his jaw and continued the interrogation.

“Then shouldn't you be in a lab or office somewhere?”

He didn't like being embarrassed, that was plain to see, especially by a seventeen-year-old girl.

“I prefer fieldwork,” she replied, and pulled her gun out.

Chris began reaching for his own weapon in response, but she didn't mean them harm. She turned away, aimed at the gated door they were planning on going through, and fired. The single bullet hit the lock and it broke, falling to the cement with a clatter.

“That should make it easier to continue, don't you think?”

She holstered her weapon and started toward the door. Chris was the first to follow while Anderson was the last, as he was evidently feeling discontent for Eva Jane. The thought left his mind when sudden, intense pain wiped everything else out.

Groaning and clutching his head, Claire noticed the change in him and drew close. He pushed away her attempt to touch his head. It hurt. It really, really hurt. What the hell was causing it?

“Chris, are you okay?” she asked with concern.

“I don't know... My head... Ahhh!”

He fell to his knees, clutching his head in unbearable agony. “Ahh! God! What is this? Gahhh!”

He was screaming in pain, not wanting to but finding it difficult to pay focus on stopping.

/

Eva rushed to the BSAA agent's side right as his head fell back, eyes rolling into his head. Collapsed on his side, the whites of his eyes were visible. Dr. Patel assessed his condition while Noel moved back, taking his daughter by the arm and pulling her to him.

“He's breathing.”

Noel realized something was happening to their surroundings. Images were appearing in the courtyard. Along with the images, a different place appeared. A hall with stone walls and floors.

“Look.”

They did look as two people dressed in clothing fit for combat appeared, coming down the hallway with weapons out. The group should recognize them. One was Agent Redfield, appearing the same as he did now, and the other was the woman they saw die. Jill.

He couldn't recall a last name. She had deep blue eyes and dark brown hair pulled into a ponytail poking out the back of her ball cap. Odd. The woman they saw earlier that night had blonde hair and pale eyes. Even so, it was very much the same woman.

The duo hesitated outside a set of double doors, exchanged looks, and then burst into the room with Agent Redfield in the lead. The images shifted to encompass the room they were entering, the hall disappearing. Inside the room, there was a wheelchair collapsed on its side and an old man lying in a pool of blood. A dead man.

Images kept moving, reforming. There appeared a tall man in a long black jacket, standing near a large window with his back to the pair of agents. Agent Redfield and Jill looked stunned to see the man. Wesker, he recalled. He was dressed in the same clothes he'd been wearing when BSAA agents fought him tonight in the mansion foyer. The man slowly turned around to face the agents. He wore dark sunglasses, the glow of his red eyes shining through for a fraction of a second as his lips curved into a smile.

Creepy... What was he?

_“Wesker!”_ shouted the image of Redfield.

Immediately following his shout, the agents opened fire on their target. He wasn't sure how he felt about them firing on a man who hadn't displayed overtly threatening action. A dead body present would certainly grant alert behavior and demands at gunpoint for him to put his hands up, but...

Wesker weaved and dodged the bullets with ease, moving in a blur of motion. He reached Redfield and grabbed the man's arm, twisting the limb so he was forced to drop his gun. The threat threw a punch into Redfield's face. He disappeared, reappearing on his right side, and hit him in the chest and face. The agent yelled out in surprise and pain as he stumbled back.

They must have opened fire like they did because they knew what he could do. Wesker was already moving again. Nothing but a black blur as he headed for Jill, who was shooting at him. The man reached her and lifted her up by the neck. Jill's gun slipped from her fingers as he slammed her against the wall, choking her.

The woman struggled to break free without luck. Fortunately, Agent Redfield came to her aid and punched Wesker across the side of his face. Wesker released the agent as Redfield began attacking, although he avoided blows with a frightening lack of effort. When the agent threw another punch, Wesker enclosed his fist in a gloved hand, squeezing. Redfield gritted his teeth and tried to break free.

Wesker didn't give him time to try and spun, restraining his arms and punching him in the face with excessive force. Redfield grunted as his head snapped painfully to the side in response to the blow. He didn't even recover from the hit, instead twisting his body to side kick Wesker. The attack blocked, he immediately disappeared from the spot in a blur as Jill opened fire on him. Wesker brought an arm down against Redfield's back, sending him stumbling, before running and twisting to avoid the bullets from her gun.

Gun out of bullets, Jill ran toward Wesker as Redfield was attacking. The man blocked a punch and sent his fist into the agent's face, knocking him to the side. She reached them as fast as she could, a combat knife in her hand. Wesker turned his attention to her as she slashed at him with her blade. He blocked and a single hand hit her stomach. It sent her flying against the far wall. The agent smashed into a glass case which shattered upon impact with her backside, and she fell to her knees, letting out a cry of pain.

Agent Redfield and Wesker were once again locked in hand to hand combat, but it was clear who was winning. Impressive skill as Noel found him to have, the other man was just as good and much faster. He got in several blows before picking the BSAA agent up by the throat and lifting him into the air. Wesker slammed him against a table and dragged him along the entire length, flinging him to the stone floor beneath the large window.

The felled man grunted in immense pain at the burning his back must feel from splinters probably embedded there. On the floor, he rolled to his side. An attempt to move was made but his body gave out. Gradually, he shook his head to resolve the disorientation. From where she had fallen, Jill started to get back on her feet as Wesker started toward Redfield.

The BSAA agent heard Wesker's footsteps and tilted his head. A gloved hand grabbed hold and lifted him high above his head. A person of his weight and only one hand. _Wow._ Noel tried to be less obvious about his marveling over the guy assaulting Agent Redfield, who struggled to get free of the vise-like grip with no success. Jill saw his troublesome position, still clearly hurting herself.

_“No!”_ she shouted in horror, racing across the room to keep her partner from being killed.

Wesker smiled at his struggling prey and flexed his other hand. Noel recognized that motion. The man had done it just prior to punching a fist fully through a BSAA soldier's chest.

_“Let's finish this,”_ Wesker said, pulling the free hand backward and clenching it.

He didn't get a chance to attack. Jill dove into the would-be killer and they both went crashing through the glass window. Agent Redfield climbed to his feet and ran to the broken window.

_“Jill!”_ he shouted fearfully.

He peered down into the darkness, searching for any sign of them.

_“Jill!”_

As sudden as the images appeared, they vanished.

The genuine Agent Redfield was sitting up. He groaned and rubbed his head, looking disoriented.

“What happened?”

Eva filled him in. “I think we got a glimpse of your past. You, Jill Valentine, Wesker, and a fall from a window.”

Noel offered a hand to the agent and helped him to his feet. One hand massaging his head, Redfield confirmed the names and that they saw what brought Jill to be in Wesker's control.

“It was two years ago. Jill and I heard one of the founders of Umbrella, Oswell Spencer, was still alive and planning to bring the Umbrella Corporation back. We pursued him, hoping he would lead us to Wesker. When we got there, Wesker had already killed Spencer and... Wait a minute.”

The BSAA agent halted his train of thought on the incident, lowering his hand from his head. He seemed to have a new idea in mind. He looked at Eva, suspicious.

“How did you know his name was Wesker? I never told you it was.”


	6. Umbrella's Victim

Eva said nothing to answer his question. Chris pointed his gun at her. He realized she could have heard him shout Wesker's name in the flashback. The fact she hadn't proceeded to provide such an explanation told him she knew more than she was letting on.

“You may be a kid, but if you don't start explaining what you're doing here, we're going to have a problem,” he said.

She didn't react to a weapon in her face. She met his gaze and remained silent. Unusual, especially for someone her age. After a moment of this tense situation, Claire tried to get through to her.

“Come on,” she said. “It's Eva, right?”

“Yeah.”

Claire gave an encouraging nod. “We don't want anyone to get hurt. Meet us halfway. Tell us why you're here and you don't have to tell us anything else.”

He glared at the teenager presuming a lot and she quickly added, “At least for now.”

Eva seemed amused by this. “You think just because we're about the same age you could understand me better?”

She dropped the pretense of pleasantness, rolling her eyes. “I don't know, Eva. I'm not the one with a gun to my head.”

She blinked calmly back at the other blonde girl. “I could kill you people if I wanted, but there is no sense in killing the weak when there is no gain.”

Chris's eyes widened at the insinuation, then narrowed. “I've heard that somewhere... Who are you? Have I met you before?”

“No and today is the first time I have laid eyes upon you as well,” Eva informed him.

He pinpointed this girl played at being older than her age. She was taking on a tough role and it would get her shot. He wasn't quite known for his patience. It was growing increasingly hostile between them as the period of silence went on. Claire tried to intervene.

“Look, you said you were here to help us. So just tell us why you want to help. You can tell us that at least, right?”

Eva hesitated. “That isn't entirely accurate.”

The answer confused Claire. “What?”

She shifted her gaze among the gathered, admitting, “I actually came here for your help, Chris.”

“My help?”

Eva's phone rang.

“I'm sorry, Chris.”

“For what?” he asked, frowning.

Out of nowhere she lashed out with her right leg, striking the gun from Chris's hand. Then she was running across the courtyard. Eva climbed a wall that would be hard for most to climb, and vaulted to the other side. Chris bent down to pick up his gun with an annoyed grunt.

“What is it about honesty that is so damn difficult for people?” he muttered.

No one answered him and he wasn't really looking for anyone to. He holstered his gun and motioned with a hand.

“Let's go. Stay on guard in case we run into Eva again. She doesn't seem to be against us, but she's hiding something. People who insist on keeping secrets can't be trusted.”

The rest of the group appeared to agree with this statement. Without further delay, they walked across the courtyard and through the unlocked gate. They went into a narrow hallway and he cursed, kicking the wall.

“We're back in the mansion!” he complained. “Nothing's where it's supposed to be so how am I supposed to get us out of here?”

“You're asking us?” Nathan asked, raising an eyebrow.

Chris sighed. “I don't know. Keep it moving. Let's see where this door goes.”

Since the hallway was small, they had to move single file down the corridor. In the next room, they found themselves in a bedroom. To the left was a door and upon quick inspection, it turned out to be a bathroom. Farther into the bedroom, the room opened more but not by much.

There was a corpse hanging from the ceiling fan. The man either committed suicide or someone hung him up there. A piece of paper lay on the desk and Chris retrieved it. The group lingered near the bathroom or the doorway because they had no desire to come closer to the hanging corpse. The brothers looked plain sick of being stuck with them or in this crazy situation. Maybe it was for both reasons.

Chris picked up the paper and read it aloud.

_“My dear Alma. The fact that you have received this letter is both a joy and a sadness for me. I could not even talk to you because of that guy in the sunglasses. Alma, be calm and read this. I think I've told you that I moved to a pharmaceutical company's lab. They headhunted me. Last month, there was an accident in the lab and the virus we were studying escaped. All my colleagues who were infected by the virus are dead. To be accurate, they've become the living dead. They still wander around. Some of them are knocking on my room door desperately right now. But there's no sign of intelligence in their eyes._

_“That cursed virus takes away all humanity from the human brain. Love, joy, sorrow, fear, humor..eternally. And Alma, even the memories of the days I spent with you... Yes, I'm infected. I did everything I could, but I could only delay the progress by a few days. The most frightening thing is, that I forget more about you by the day. So I chose a peaceful death, rather than become the living dead. Within an hour, I will have entered my eternal sleep. I do hope you'll understand my decision... Goodbye and forever yours, Martin Crackhorn.”_

He set the letter back down on the desk. He was remembering a lot of the tiny details which slipped away over the years. It made him feel foreboding.

“Guy in the sunglasses. Gee, I wonder who that could have been.”

He was audibly sarcastic. His demeanor changed as he glanced around the room and spotted the shelves on the far wall.

“Hold on, I think there's a secret passageway behind these shelves.”

Chris headed over to them and studied the twin shelves for a moment. One of the shelves was jutting out farther than the other. With a strong push, he shoved the shelf to the side, exposing a metal ladder. He smiled when he caught sight of the hidden passage.

“Okay, this way,” he ordered, and started to descend the ladder.

“What the hell _is_ this place?” one of the brothers asked.

At the bottom, there was a very wide passageway. It was damp and smelled faintly of stinky water, like sewage. Memory of vicious sharks filled his mind. They better not run into any.

“Looks like someone dropped something,” Agent Anderson observed, trotting to a piece of paper which he picked up and read to them.

_“July 22, 1998. To the head of the security department, 'X-Day' is approaching. Complete the following orders within the week. Lure members of STARS into the lab and have them fight with the B.O.W. in order to obtain data of actual battles. Collect two embryos per B.O.W. type making sure to include all species except for Tyrant. Destroy the Arklay lab including all researchers and lab animals in a manner which will seem accidental. White Umbrella.”_

“Sounds like we just found your old buddy's orders,” Anderson told him, letting the paper fall to the ground.

“Wesker is not my buddy.”

The federal agent ignored his annoyance, pondering the orders he read.

“So what is this Tyrant? It doesn't happen to be roaming around freely I hope.”

He shook his head in the negative. “Tyrant was in the lab, or at least until Wesker released it that night. I don't know if he was showing off, suicidal, or what. Besides, we would know if Tyrant was loose.”

“Oh? And why is that?” Anderson questioned.

This guy apparently had two modes: Skeptical or Serious. He seemed unable to believe anyone could know more than him, no matter the situation. Chris glanced at him and put his back to all of them.

“Because if Tyrant was loose, it would find _us_.”

He peered over his shoulder. The others were exchanging looks, each of them probably hoping Tyrant wouldn't cross their paths. Chris started moving down the passageway, weapon out and ready to fire. There was a metal door at the end, to the right. They passed through and were now standing near a lit fireplace inside a cabin.

Crowded together, he cursed under his breath. He seemed to do that a lot lately. But he recognized this as the place a poor monster called home.

“What is it?” Steven asked, presumably noting his darkened mood.

“This is the cabin where I first met her, when I met Lisa Trevor. Well, what she had become.”

Chris backed toward the door. “We should leave.”

The door behind them started to open before they could go back through. Jones and Nathan shrank away as an indescribably hideous creature came through the door. The creature was deformed and hunching forward. It wore human faces on itself, making its own face impossible to find. It wore a dirty white hospital gown. Its hands were shackled together in front of it, along with its legs.

When the creature walked, the shackles clanked loudly together and dragged across the ground. Upon noticing the large group, the thing began to moan. The moan was a sort of sad urgency. Weird tentacle things sprang out of its back, whipping dangerously close to them.

“Run!” Chris yelled and waved them to a small hallway leading in the opposite direction of the creature.

They ran down the small hall and he went last. Their path took them past two beds and into another area which held a single wooden door. He shouted for them to hurry. He didn't want to waste their limited ammunition on a sponge like her. She may or may not be unkillable.

He trailed them through the door and into the quiet night. Lisa was just about on him at the exit and he fired two shots to dissuade her interest. She released a loud, horrific wail, flinching away. His gaze drifted to the right and he spotted a clip of handgun ammo. Lucky.

Chris risked nearing the creature to grab it and hurried outside. He shut the door behind him, not counting on that to keep her inside. He ran past the others, shouting for them to follow. He led the way into the woods, weaving around trees and stepping over roots. A soft moan came from their left.

“Is that a-?” Claire started to ask, her heavy breathing close behind him.

“Yeah. There are zombies in these woods! Be careful!” Chris yelled over his shoulder.

One zombie stood on the path they discovered and continued running on. The creature was easily avoided by stepping off the path momentarily to go around it. The undead zombie noticed them after the first two jogged past, but it merely moved after them at a slow shamble. Unable to move faster, it didn't become a threat to even the last of them.

The path took them through a gate and another path. On this path, they could see the mansion from where they stood to catch their breath. They reached a dimly lit area where there were two sets of double doors. A choice.

“We should be far enough away,” he said. “She seems immune to bullets so it would have been a waste using them on her.”

“She?” Dr. Patel asked in confusion and disbelief.

“That was her, wasn't it?” Claire deduced, her voice soft. “Lisa. I saw a photo of a family. A dad, mom, and a little girl. It was sitting on a table near one of those cots. I also found this.”

Claire handed a small journal to him. He accepted it after a moment, his eyes watching her to make sure she was handling the situation okay. She was doing surprisingly well for a girl somewhere between sixteen and eighteen. She did remind him of his own sister when she was nineteen.

He smiled. His sister had spunk just like this girl and both of them were incredibly brave in terrifying situations. They had sticky fingers too.

Everyone needed to catch their breath and have a short break. He decided it couldn't hurt to read the journal to them during that time.

_“November 14, 1967. I feel dizzy after that shot they gave me. I don't see Mom. Where did they take her? She promised that we would escape together. Did she escape alone and leave me behind?_

_“November 15, 1967. I found Mom. We ate together. I was very happy. But she was a fake. Not my real mom. Same face but different inside. Have to find Mom. Have to give face back to Mother. I got Mom's face back. Nobody can have my mom except me. I attach her face to me so she doesn't go away. Because Mom sad when I meet her without her face.”_

“That was, she was, wearing her mother's face. Oh God...” Dr. Patel bent over.

He looked ready to throw up at the realization the girl ripped her mother's face off and wore it. He leaned with one hand against the wall of the shed, taking deep breaths. Well, she stole faces from some women. It wasn't her mom, he didn't think.

Chris continued reading despite the retching noises out of his line of sight.

_“November 17, 1967. From inside box, scent of Mommy. Maybe true mother there. Stone box hard. It hurt. Steel rope in the way. Can't see Mother becuz 4 stones. 19th. Daddy attacked first. Mom attacked second. Inside red and slimy, white and hard. Not true Mom where. Dunno Dad, found Mom again. When attacked Mommy, she moved no more. She screaming. Why? Just want to be with her. Mom, where? I miss you.”_

He released a heavy sigh. He seemed to be doing a lot of that lately. A lot of sighing, cursing... In all fairness, he lived an absurd life which could be cut short at any time. He determined they rested enough.

“Umbrella claimed a lot of victims,” he said before pushing through the double doors on the left.

Chris led the way into something unexpected, although truly, nothing could be expected wherever they were. They began to wander inside a hollowed out cavern. Inwardly, he cursed. Memories refreshed concerning Lisa Trevor. He knew where he'd brought them.

“Get out of one hole only to fall into another,” he commented. “This is basically Lisa's playground.”

“Great...” Lucas uttered, squinting to see farther into the barely lit cavern.


	7. There's Something Wrong with Chris

The cavern branched off in two directions, right and left. From the right tunnel, he could hear the faint noise of what sounded like fingers typing on a keyboard. A few more steps and they discovered the source of the noise.

A woman was standing with her back to them, typing on a laptop. She wore matching heels to a very revealing and skimpy white dress. Multiple accessories accompanied her outfit. The bracelets, earrings, and necklace looked like they might cost a fortune. It was totally out of place for where they were.

Where were they again? A small part of Africa became a decimated part of America. He'd walked through rooms he knew to be forever gone. Her outfit was the least strange thing he saw tonight.

The woman's hair was dark brown and neatly tied back in a bun. It looked like plenty of spray went into the hairdo. Did she get hairstyle tips from Wesker?

Upon hearing their footsteps, her brown eyes widened as she took in the group of nine.

“Excella Gionne! So Tricell _is_ involved in this,” Chris declared to the woman. “Where's Uroboros?”

The woman slammed the laptop closed and glared at him and the others.

“Maybe I'll tell you, maybe I won't,” she said with a heavy accent, her nose upturned.

“Tricell?” Dr. Patel asked. “What business does a pharmaceutical company have in a place like this?”

David answered him. “A pharmaceutical company that basically replaced Umbrella. This woman is a high-ranking official with the company.”

“So you've done your homework,” Excella sneered. “Well that information won't do you any good here.”

“I can find out,” Lucas told them, stepping forward. “I know some persuasive techniques.”

He stared hard at the woman, walking a few steps closer. She frowned while he removed a sheathed knife tucked in the back of his belt. He'd kept it concealed beneath his jacket. Chris didn't like this guy. He was sneaky and had too many secrets.

Excella expressed dislike in her posture for the threatening gesture, watching him separate the weapon from its sheath. She glanced backward before returning her attention to the man meandering in her direction. Chris pondered if he should let this go on.

“There's something she doesn't want us to find,” said Lucas.

Excella glared tough but took a step away, bumping into the table.

“Something in that briefcase,” Lucas proposed, sounding confident pointing to a metal case resting next to the computer.

“Who are you?” she demanded.

“What's in there? Progenitor virus? The new virus? Is it Uroboros? Something else? Answer!”

He dashed forward in a sudden burst of speed and grabbed her by the wrist as she tried to move away.

“Let go!”

“Answer or I break your wrist!”

“It's a serum, not a virus,” she cried. “Wesker requires regular doses to maintain the stability of his viral infection.”

Chris moved forward, observing her and then Lucas carefully. The knife and sheath were BSAA issue. He must have taken it from one of the soldiers' bodies.

Lucas wrenched her wrist to his chest when she fought to free herself. It was news to him Wesker had to have any such thing. What would happen if he missed a dose?

A low moan emerged from the other tunnel, followed by the sound of dragging chains. It broke their concentration and Excella tugged out of Lucas's grip. She made a run for it, grabbing the metal briefcase and running into the tunnel.

She vanished from sight. He would have given chase but the low, sorrowful moan came again. The abominable creature Lisa Trevor became was shuffling toward them out of the left tunnel.

“Come on!” David yelled and jogged for the passageway on the right.

The rest of the group followed and Chris brought up the rear. They reached an opening in the cavern. It was a square platform with tall stones in each corner. At the center was a rusty metal coffin, and behind that was a doorway blocked by metal bars.

Chris soaked in the information and remembered the time he fought Lisa. It had been ten years ago but he remembered the journal he read minutes earlier. Lisa wrote something about four stones and he recalled that all Lisa really wanted was to be with her mother.

Since Lucas was convinced he had guts and was inclined to help out, why not give him something to do?

“Lucas! David! Anderson!” he called to them. “See the stones in the corners? The pillars. Push them over the edge. Now!”

“Roger!”

“On it!”

“Ugh. Fine!”

Lisa's moan of misery grew louder. He turned to Jones and motioned to the four other civilians standing by him.

“Keep them safe!”

Chris spun around and crossed the few feet to the stone pillar near where they entered. It would be where Lisa came in and presented the most danger. He lowered his stance and shoved forward with as much strength as he could muster, budging it most of the way off already. Another shove and it toppled into the deep chasm, the chain attached dropping.

He wondered if a fall from here would kill someone. Pushing the thought aside, he backed toward the center of the stone platform. Lisa entered the area, slow but purposeful.

Jones raised his firearm in the event he had to shoot. Dr. Patel cowered behind him, clinging to the empty gun he could use only for a melee weapon. He heard another chain drop and looked to see David had done it. He was moving to the other side where Lucas was struggling to get his stone over the side. A quick check on Anderson let him know the FBI agent nearly had it.

“Look out!”

Lisa swept her chained arms at him and he threw himself into a forward roll. Agitated, she shuffled to face his new location before clambering toward him again. He didn't shoot and warned Jones not to either. Preserve ammunition, don't waste.

The last of the stones plummeted into the abyss, final attached chain dropping with it. Bars lifted in front an exit, and the top of the casket slid open. The creature, seeing the casket opened, shambled over and reached inside. She pulled out a human skull and raised it above her head.

“Mooother!” Lisa wailed.

They all watched as she threw herself over the side of the platform, her mother's skull cradled in her arms. Would such a fall end her suffering? He hoped it would because she definitely suffered enough. Spencer was a true monster of the human variety. There were far too many out there. People who didn't care about other people.

Silence followed her demise, only broken when Claire approached the coffin. Although she didn't seem to particularly want to, she peered inside the casket. Noticing something, her expression shifted to one of intrigue as she reached in and pulled out a very old sheet of paper.

“It's a letter,” Claire revealed.

A habit their group developed, she proceeded to read it to them.

_“To my Lisa. Day by day I can feel my consciousness drifting further away. The shots given to me by men in white clothes made some of Mommy's itching go away. Today they gave me another shot saying it was 'nutrition'. When they give me the shots Mommy can think straight, but Mommy's shocked and sad because Mommy's unable to think of you all the time. Mommy's afraid. Afraid of forgetting everything, especially the memories of you and Daddy... What your faces look like, how we used to be together... They're all starting to disappear somewhere dark in my mind. Oh Lisa, I wish I could touch your face and hold you in my arms right now, so that I can hold on to our wonderful memories of you and Daddy._

_“Lisa we can't stay here any longer, we have to escape! Listen to me, Lisa. Our chance to escape is the next time when we go to that lab together. We'll both pretend that we are both unconscious and when that man in white clothes is off guard that will be our chance. When we're on the outside, let's look for Daddy together. Okay sweetie? Be strong, Lisa. November 13, 1967. Jessica Trevor.”_

Angry tears filled Claire's eyes and she wiped at the ones she couldn't prevent leaking.

“The people who did those things are gone, Claire. They can't hurt anyone anymore,” Chris said, trying to comfort her.

“Yeah, but it's like David said. Tricell is like Umbrella, right? So now there's another evil out there. I don't understand why someone would want to ever do such horrible things to others...”

“They're not... It's complicated. Don't worry. The BSAA has a job and we're gonna do it.”

He aimed for reassurance. He couldn't say if he succeeded. Claire placed the letter in the coffin and looked to her dad.

“Let's just get out of here.”

“Oh no...” he uttered.

“What?” Dr. Patel asked, alarmed.

Chris pressed the palms of his hands against the sides of his head. It felt like his skull was exploding or something with how agonizing the pain was. He began to scream and conscious thoughts were lost.

/

“Stop! No!”

Noel reached the agent as he collapsed and struggled to hold his weight when it went limp in his arms. He lowered them to the ground with Dr. Patel's assistance. He noted Redfield's eyes were rolled to the back of his head like the previous occasion. Would there also be-?

Yes. Images swirled around the platform and stopped when dark woods appeared. It was night, a group of people were searching the area with flashlights, handguns drawn and ready. They were searching through trees and brush on high alert. He recognized a younger Redfield, then Jill. There was an unidentified man with reddish brown hair and a beard. He was older than the first two, muscular and carrying a hefty looking revolver. It could be a magnum. It sure looked a lot like the magnum revolver the BSAA agent now carried on him.

Another he recognized came into sight. Wesker. He mostly recognized him because he was wearing sunglasses. Sunglasses despite it being the middle of the night and during a seemingly dangerous undertaking. Noel could just imagine what a tear he'd have gotten if he tried that crap on duty with his former police department.

The other person present was a man carrying an assault rifle and flashlight. He was most distinguishable by the red bandanna he wore around his head. He chuckled to himself, thinking if this was anything like Star Trek, wearing red meant he was a dead man.

This man pointed his weapon wherever he looked, cautious. His eyes were wide though and it was clear he was very nervous about wandering in the middle of the woods at night like this. The STARS member heard a noise and whipped his gun and flashlight around, searching the spot carefully but seeing nothing.

He visibly relaxed with a sigh of relief and lowered his rifle. The sound of grass moving, something running through it... The man spun toward the sound as something came out of the tall grass and leaped for him.

Releasing a shout of terror, a skinless dog attacked. Gunshots rang out as he tried to shoot his attacker biting and clawing him. More skinless dogs joined in, ripping and tearing his flesh off as they ate him alive. His screams of agony pierced the quiet night and the other soldiers tried to detect where they were coming from among the trees.

It was a fascinating sight to see all of this playing out before his eyes. The rather dark moist depths of stone surrounding them in real life, had see-through images of a forest. These STARS members were scattered on every side of the room, a couple moving across air like there was forest ground. Amazing. Terrifying as well. What could be creating these scenes of a man's life? Why were they happening?

Noel returned to focusing on the moving images rushing primarily in one direction.

Jill was the first to come to her comrade's aid and she fired into the group of dogs. She stared in horror at the sight of her teammate ripped apart and eaten alive. Her eyes were wide with shock and she fired until her gun ran out. The dry click repeated as she continued squeezing the trigger.

She couldn't peel her eyes from the sight. By this time, her fallen comrade's screams had gotten quieter as the wounds overcame him, pain and trauma too much. The man's screams became moans which eventually stopped, death finally taking him. Noel felt nauseous recalling his humorous joke. It was a morbid thought now.

One of the skinless dogs may have sensed Jill's presence. It turned its head, chewing on a piece of flesh, blood dripping from its mouth. Her eyes widened further in fear and she started to back up. The dog growled and stepped toward her before breaking into a run for an attack.

She tripped and fell to the ground, the dog jumping to attack her. A gunshot rang out and the canine hit the ground. The young Redfield was standing there, his gun still aimed from firing. He ran forward to help her up as the gunshot alerted the other skinless dogs to them.

_“Come on!”_ he shouted, helping Jill to her feet.

The two ran for their lives as the sick dogs gave chase. Through the trees above them, a light shone overhead. A helicopter flew over and Redfield peered upward in surprise and anger.

_“Hey! Brad! Where the hell's he going?”_

Their helicopter gone, they had nowhere to run to and the dogs were gaining on them. Seeming to have given up fleeing, Redfield turned quickly in his tracks and raised an arm over his head to defend himself as a dog sprang through the air. A bullet slammed into the dog, sending it to the ground. Stunned, he glanced behind him to find Wesker there with his weapon raised.

_“Chris, this way!”_ Wesker called out.

He fired a few more shots at the dogs as the two ran past him. The bearded man was there firing at their pursuers, falling behind. The four of them ran as fast as they could, firing shots wildly behind them.

As they ran, someone yelled out. _“Head for that mansion!”_

Hearing the shout, Jill lifted her eyes to see a large and very eerie looking mansion coming into sight. The image growing and then fading almost immediately. He heard a groan and Noel blocked out the increasingly fainter pictures to find Agent Redfield regaining consciousness.

This time when he woke up, he placed a hand to his chest and grimaced in pain. Noel backed away, giving up the light hold he had retained on the unconscious man. Redfield stood without needing help, looking tired.

“This is getting old, fast,” the agent said.

His hand came to rest on his chest.

Noel looked at him with a mixture of concern and suspicion. “You sure you're alright?”

“I have no idea what's wrong with me but I'm fine now,” Agent Redfield told him, brushing off the concerned gazes.

Nathan didn't seem to mind the avoidance, saying, “We were going to leave this creepy platform with the coffin then.”

“No arguments here,” Dr. Patel piped up and led the way out of the caves.

He didn't lead for long. While entering the second hallway, Agent Redfield regained the lead alongside his fellow soldier. There was a zombie in this hallway, but coming into the third hall, there were no other dangers waiting.

The next door they went through took them to a lab. There were various computers and cryogenic tubes taller than the average man. Redfield paused, leading Steven and Nathan to almost walk into him. They soon saw why he stopped. An image of the Wesker in a STARS uniform was there. He was typing on a computer.

“Hey, it's you,” Claire told Agent Redfield.

They turned toward the entrance to witness his past self walking into the lab. His younger self walked right through his present self. A young girl with short hair walked behind him. It was Rebecca, the girl they saw an image of earlier in the night.

She peered around at the lab with curiosity. Only a few years older than his daughter and to survive this horrifying nightmare... She was an amazing woman.

The images of Redfield and Rebecca were standing a few feet behind Wesker. They didn't appear surprised to find their captain. Noel considered they learned of his deceit already. Wesker didn't cease his typing as the two STARS members approached so Redfield spoke first.

_“Wesker.”_

_“So you've come. Chris, you make me proud. Course, you are one of my men.”_

He kept typing.

_“Thanks,”_ Redfield replied, voice dripping with sarcasm.

Wesker turned suddenly and pointed his gun at the other man's head. He continued looking unsurprised and unimpressed.

_“Since when, Wesker?”_

_“I'm afraid I don't know what you're talking about.”_

_“Since when have they been slipping you a paycheck?”_ he demanded, voice rising as he grew more antagonistic.

Wesker moved a few steps to close the distance, gun yet aimed at Redfield's head.

_“I think you're a bit confused. I've always been with Umbrella. STARS were Umbrella's, no, rather my little piggies. The tyrant virus leaked, polluting this whole place, and unfortunately I have to give up my lovely members of STARS.”_

_“You killed them with your own dirty hands..you son of a bitch!”_ he proclaimed angrily, pointing a finger accusingly at Wesker.

_“No...”_ Rebecca murmured, horror and disbelief etching into the lines of her face.

_“Oh yes dear. Just like this.”_

He shot her in the chest.

_“Rebecca!”_ Redfield cried out and turned to help her.

_“Don't move,”_ Wesker commanded, pointing the gun at his back.

_“You...”_ he uttered as he turned his gaze back to Wesker.

_“I don't think you want to die just yet. I have something that's of some interest to you.”_

Keeping the gun positioned on him, he started typing on the computer. When he was done, he tilted his head to look behind him at the large cryotank that held a monstrous looking creature. The thing in the tank must have been at least nine feet tall. It had pale gray skin and was muscular and broad-shouldered, bald, and sexless.

Its right hand was normal except for the fact it had abnormally long fingers that were more like claws, and its left hand was literally a hand with gigantic claws. Each claw on the left hand was easily a foot long. At the center of its chest was a red mass which appeared to be its huge beating heart. The skin and lips were peeled away so it looked as though the creature was constantly grinning. The water began to drain out of the tank and Noel realized Wesker had woken it from its slumber.

_“The ultimate life form, Tyrant,”_ Wesker revealed.

Surprisingly, Redfield laughed out loud in disbelief. _“Wesker, you've become senile!”_

The other man ignored his laugh as he walked over to the tank containing his precious Tyrant, staring up at it in admiration.

_“Chris, you'll never understand.”_

Wesker gazed up at Tyrant and raised his arms out in a praising motion. _“It's magnificent.”_

Tyrant was moving inside the tank. Its eyes were open and it was staring at Wesker. For a moment it seemed the two of them locked eyes. Then it drew back its giant clawed hand and broke the glass of the tank, spearing through Wesker's stomach. The man cried out in pain and Redfield shrank back as Tyrant stepped from its broken tank. It tossed Wesker across the room and the unmoving body slammed into a computer before sinking to the floor in a pool of blood.

Slowly, Tyrant turned around and locked its eyes onto Redfield. A large red mass on its chest was audibly beating, the heartbeat constant and terrifying to any observers. The imposing monster lumbered toward him and the STARS member continued backing away.

The images were beginning to fade. They watched as Tyrant faded from sight, followed by the young Redfield, and the laboratory was disappearing too. Noel looked around in surprise as their group appeared back in the courtyard of the mansion where Lucas torched some infected dogs.

“What the-?” Agent Redfield started, but he was interrupted

“Chris! Quick! Come this way!”

He looked, surprised to see a young woman there. She wore a tank top and equipment, skin a lighter shade of brown. Noel was certain he never saw her before.

“Sheva! How did you find us?” Redfield appeared happy to see her and glanced at their group, explaining, “This is my partner and leader of Delta team when we got separated, Sheva Alomar.”

“You were supposed to radio me when you got to the mansion,” he said to the her.

The woman shook her head. In disagreement?

She seemed impatient and motioned for them to follow her, passing through a door. It was the door they came through, back when the group originally arrived in the courtyard the first time. The BSAA agent shrugged when he received questioning looks from the others, following after her.

Noel was reluctant to just follow someone who was a stranger to him. However, considering Agent Redfield was a stranger to him even now and had done nothing but fight for their protection, he relented. Soon they went through the doors and into an entirely new place.

It was an open area with stone flooring. Straight ahead was a second floor landing with stairs leading down on either side. Sheva was nowhere in sight and Redfield scanned their surroundings for her in confusion.

“Where did your partner go?” Agent Anderson asked.

Sheva had completely disappeared.


	8. Preview of Uroboros

“This is a dumb idea, man.”

“Shut up. You wanted to sneak off an hour ago.”

“Naaathan!”

“Catch up. We're never gonna find the goods if we move at a snail's pace.”

His brother caught up in the hallway in a few seconds, breathing hard. They ran for a good minute as fast as they could after slipping out of the laboratory. He'd been waiting for an opportunity all night to explore the riches a mansion like this surely contained.

“I know we were going to, but, but there are- You saw that thing back there!”

He shoved him into the wall to get him to stop acting chicken shit. That mutated lady was sure to pop into future nightmares as it was. He didn't need his brother's reminder of things he'd prefer to forget.

The shove worked. Steven bumped off the wall and came at him with a fist. He blocked it and shut him down by playfully slapping each cheek. Flushing in humiliation and irritation, he caved and walked without further complaint.

“I don't give two shits about some hologram projections or whatever that is. We're unearthing priceless antiques here. Especially if this is a household decades old. I mean, look at the design of this place. That psycho loved living in luxury.”

“So wait? You think we're actually in some house that BSAA guy said was destroyed ten years ago?”

“Of course not. Houses don't rebuild after they're blown up,” he reasoned. “Guy has his buildings mixed up is all. Maybe hit his head one too many times on the job.”

“But how do you explain being here when we were checking out an abandoned Umbrella building in Wimberly?”

Nathan shrugged and jabbed a finger into his brother's shoulder. “The ones who say we're not still in Texas are Redfield and his soldiers. Doesn't mean we aren't.”

“Why would they lie? Where are we really?”

“Must have been...” he let his line of thinking die, realizing it didn't make sense.

They couldn't have ended up walking into an entire mansion like this, complete with an underground tunnel system and outside property. They weren't walking into another room when they literally appeared in the foyer area. Nathan recalled clearly feeling excited to search a locked cabinet once he forced it open. Now he and his little brother were here. It made no sense.

“Ah,” he sighted a door not yet covered. “There might be something in there.”

They stopped in front of the wooden door and went in. A square, bland room mostly empty greeted them. There were doors to the left and right. He told Steven to go right while he tried the left door. It was locked. He peeked over his shoulder to see his brother disappear into whatever lay beyond his door and turned back.

He studied the lock a brief moment and determined he could pick the lock, taking his small tool kit out of his back pocket. In under a minute, he felt the tumblers give and he turned the doorknob.

The room wasn't what he expected. There were a few tables and desks, but what stood out were the framed pin-ups of bugs. He caught sight of butterflies and frowned. What kind of crap was this?

Nathan noticed an object which stood out among an assortment of bugs on one of them. It was shaped like a bee. He removed it from the hook, examining it closely.

“Ooh. Is that gold?”

He startled. “Damn it, Steven. Don't stealth around on me!”

“I wasn't.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he muttered and let him see the item he found. “This should be worth a nice sum.”

“Depends if it's solid or painted.”

Nathan surveyed the room and decided it wasn't worth looking through the rest. He couldn't guarantee the others wouldn't come looking for them when they realized two of them were missing. There was the whole zombie, mutated reptilian, and carnivorous dog issue as well.

“Anything on your end?”

“Nope.”

“Let's keep looking elsewhere.”

They left the way they came except the way was different. He voiced his confused wonderment aloud.

“We've been here before, haven't we?”

“Yeah... Those freak lizards tried to kill us in this cramped space.”

Nathan strode quickly for the first door he saw. “Let's be elsewhere.”

He didn't want to hang around in case more were loitering around. The door he wanted was locked, so he turned into the corridor on his left and they were able to pass through that door. More familiar territory.

As they walked by a set of double doors with fancy design, he distinctly remembered this room was ignored on their prior passing. He tried the handle, expecting it to be locked, but it opened without resistance. They stepped inside a room containing suits of armor on either side. Rows of them. On the floor, there was a box.

“Is it a jewelry box?” Steven asked eagerly, coming close to peek above his shoulder.

“Hm...” He moved forward and picked the fancy box up from the floor. “Sunshine will awaken me.”

“Huh?”

Nathan tossed the box into his brother's surprised arms, but he caught it all right. Good boy.

“Figure it out.”

He scavenged through the rest of the room. Nothing transportable and he didn't feel like pressing a mystery button. Nathan finished the search and rejoined his brother, who figured out how to open the box. He observed him press a switch on a side of the box and it opened for him.

“Whoa, pass.”

Steven chucked the jewelry box away and something fell out. A creepy mask. He'd seen one of those creepy masks when they stumbled on a room with a humongous snake. It was utilized for getting to a coffin and then a gold key to some other door.

“This place is insane. How did people live and work here? The layout and accessibility is perverse.”

“It's certainly contrary,” Steven agreed, shuddering in spite of himself. “Let's move on.”

They went through the heavy doors and what the fu-?

He froze and his brother copied him. They didn't enter a red carpeted hallway. Instead they stood on a balcony overlooking a dining room. He was sure it was the same dining room they traveled through with the group earlier in the night. There was something moving on the balcony opposite and it heard the door shut loudly behind them.

“Shit! Hunter!” yelled Steven in alarm.

“Go back!” he shouted, despite the other being a couple inches away.

The door had locked after them. _Oh come on!_ He was panicking, the creature breaking into a run. It leaped into the air, slashing at the spot they only just vacated as they took off running.

“What do we do?”

They were playing a game of tag with a vicious mutated reptile, running in circles on the circular balcony. Their sole objective was staying ahead of the monster giving chase. Hunter? The name was fitting.

He spent too much time checking over his shoulder and rammed into a statue he hadn't noticed until right then. The heavy object crashed to the hard floor below and he saw there was a seemingly random section of railing absent. From age or intention?

“Nathan, it's coming!”

Steven was trying to drag him to his feet and it hurt. He appreciated the table below as a suitable landing spot and screamed for his brother to do what he did. Nathan flung himself outward off the balcony, aiming for the table and smacking into it sideways. His momentum caused him to roll painfully off the table to the checkered floor.

He glimpsed his brother hitting the table feetfirst, instantly dropping to a roll to lessen the load on his legs. The hunter shrieked above them. Steven slid to stand on the ground and the monster hopped down to their level.

_Oh come on! Shit!_

A loud bark of a gun discharge drowned out his rapidly pounding heart. The hunter fell backward, squealing and spasming for several seconds before ceasing movement. He got up from the floor and turned in the direction of his brother to see his brother turning similarly to behold the shooter and savior.

Lucas stood inside the double doors. He could remember those doors leading to the foyer where they began their journey to seek a way out. How much time had passed since then?

“Where did you get that?” he heard Steven asking. “It put that thing down in a single shot. Thanks.”

The FBI consultant or whatever it was he was for them, shrugged. “Claimed it from the suicide's room. The hanging man. It had one shot. You're welcome.”

Nathan got distracted by something bright colored among the black and white floor. Lucas discarded the small gun on the table while he jogged around the other end of table to check it out. Careful to avoid the lifeless creature, he stooped low and removed the bright item from the shattered statue.

He held in his hand a sizable gemstone, perfectly cut. It was a dark blue color. Beautiful. Worth a few million at least. A smile spread across his face as he stored the highly valued stone in a safe place on his person.

“Did you two lose your way?”

His smile shrank somewhat. He'd let Steven in on their prize when somebody working for the FBI wasn't hanging around. Walking over to his brother, he speculated on this man's arrival. Fortuitous, but it probably meant the group wasn't far. Or they were far and Lucas sneaked away on his own like they had.

“Yeah, sure. We got lost,” he lied. “What about you?”

Lucas smiled in return, wise to his mischief. “I got lost.”

They weren't the only ones not interested in following the BSAA around all evening. Nathan ventured the other man separated from the group to do some exploring himself. He couldn't say what did interest him.

Steven had gone nearer to the other during their brief staring bit and pointed to the ground.

“What's that? Is it like the other thing you were using except bigger? Where'd you get it?”

“You're full of questions,” Lucas noted.

Nathan moved to see what his brother was talking about. There was a weighty looking flame dispersal device resting against the wall behind Lucas. Where _did_ he get that? Why did he have it? Who _was_ this guy?

“Why don't you answer one?” he asked.

“What was that?”

He persisted. “Who are you and why are you working with the FBI?”

“Who and why are two different questions,” Lucas said, the scrupulous asshole. “I'm not supposed to tell my last name or personal history, but I will share one thing as a compromise.”

“Okay...”

“I was assisting the FBI in investigating a shut down Umbrella building showing signs of activity in recent weeks.”

A small-time criminal like him, he didn't know much about pharmaceutical companies, even if they turned out to be responsible for a city-wide outbreak a decade back. What would his caring do for him? Caring wouldn't do anything for anyone else either so what was the point?

Steven kept looking to the unnatural animal on the floor. It was bugging him. He wrapped an arm around his brother's shoulder roughly, patting his shoulder.

“Come on,” he said, falsely enthused. “Let's find a new room to check out.”

His eyes met Lucas's and he changed his wording to put him in a better light.

“You know, to check for the others and stuff.”

Lucas smiled. “And stuff.”

“Yeah, okay,” Steven agreed.

“I don't think we can stray far from Chris Redfield. Not for long. For me, every door seems to want to take me back to where he is.”

Nathan's forehead creased as he thought on the idea. Whatever. He chose to put the idea out of mind. He took the lead, heading for a new door, and the other two followed. What possible goods might he discover next?

/

Chris's expression portrayed his uncertainty as to his partner's whereabouts. He wiped the look. His radio hadn't worked well since leaving the mansion foyer. He would have to track her in the direction she went. That was the plan. _Was._ He forgot Sheva, noticing a man seated in a chair between the two staircases.

His skin was ashen, a sickly gray. He didn't think there was a hair on his body, including his head which lay limp on his chest. Chris moved closer, examining the man's metal restraints. A rash volunteer, or a prisoner.

A woman in a tight dress came around a corner they hadn't seen.

“Excella!” he called out, grabbing her attention.

The pompous woman sneered. “You don't know when to quit, do you?”

“Where's Sheva?” the BSAA agent demanded.

Excella wrinkled her nose, disapproving of the tone he was taking with her. She set her arms across her chest and looked down her nose at them.

“If you can behave yourselves, maybe I'll tell you.”

He started toward her, bringing his handgun up. She stepped back to the base of the right staircase and wagged her finger at him.

“No, no, no. Don't play your tricks with me.”

Him? Who was the one playing here?

“So you've made it this far,” a cold, flat voice echoed from above.

Wesker was standing on the upper floor, his gloved hands placed on the railing as he looked down to him.

“Wesker!”

The man's lips upturned in that slight smile of his which would be a nice smile, if he didn't clearly use it to intimidate those around him. He was a very serious person when he was captain of their special unit in Raccoon. Chris wondered if there were times he smiled like that and they just didn't realize the duplicity behind it.

“Too bad you won't make it much further,” Wesker added.

“Wesker! Where's Sheva?”

He could see an eyebrow raise even at this distance. Ever since he became this..other than human thing, he belittled him, blamed him for his plotting not going according to plan. Maybe if he quit underestimating people at every turn...

“You expect me to keep track of your team, Chris? Not very good leadership on your part.”

He lifted his hands in proclamation as he proceeded to deliver a message to their group.

“Uroboros is on the eve of its appearance! Your feeble attempts only delay the inevitable. The entire world will be infected. A new genesis is at hand and I will be the creator!”

The rumors were true. Uroboros was what he fought in the African town. He really did intend to destroy the entire planet. Chris considered his surroundings. It wasn't any place he could remember seeing. Did they leave the mansion behind? Was this in the West African nation where he was supposed to be?

His confusion made him angry, and hearing the insanity coming out of Wesker, he glared up at him.

“You've lost your mind, Wesker!”

He lowered his gaze back to him and smirked. “Natural selection leaves the survivor stronger and better. Soon even you will understand, Chris. One glimpse of my world and it will all make perfect sense.”

A world full of gooey tentacle monsters. There was no evidence someone could bond with the virus and retain their mind or body as far as he was aware. So his efforts were to infect the globe with an unstable, unproven virus. Where did that make sense?

“Enough talk! Where's Uroboros?” he questioned angrily.

Wesker turned his eyes to his partner. “Excella, why don't you enlighten our guests.”

She grinned at them, malicious intent apparent. “Certainly.”

Excella walked over to the pallid man strapped in the chair and reached inside her dress, pulling out a capped syringe. Removing the cap, she placed the needle to his arm and injected red fluid into a vein. As soon as she was done she moved away and headed for the stairs. At the foot of the first step, she turned back to their group.

“You've spent so long trying to track down Uroboros. Well here, enjoy,” the woman taunted, mockingly sweeping a hand in the direction of the restrained man.

Watching Excella hurry up the stairs, the group returned their attention to the man in the chair as he started to jerk sporadically. He stood, yanking his arms free from the restraints as if they were made of paper instead of steel. A low rasp escaped the man and he lifted his head to glare in their direction. He began to walk toward them and as he did, tentacles burst through the skin of his back and chest. The tentacles retracted back into the man as he continued coming near.

The man's progression faltered and the outward mutation reoccurred, tentacles ripping out of his body. There were more this time and they enveloped him in his entirety. It didn't leave a trace of the human, consuming him at an accelerated rate.

“Hmm. Too bad,” Excella said as she observed on the second landing beside Wesker. “Looks like he wasn't worthy. Uroboros has rejected him. Only the chosen ones will be worthy for the coming world.”

The tentacled monstrosity came for them.

Chris pulled out his magnum and opened fire on the mutated creature infected with Uroboros. He aimed for the glowing orange spots hidden among the swirling, rotating tentacles forming the creature's body. David shouted he had something to use. He glanced to see his teammate walking slowly forward. He wore a pack on his back and carried a large and heavy looking device. A flamethrower.

Lucas was right next to him, finishing hoisting the pack onto the soldier. His eyes tracked Nathan and Steven by the door not far from the other two. The door closed just beyond them and he thought they might have returned from somewhere else. He grimaced, having never noticed they were three group members short.

It had to be three persons. The flame generating device and fuel tanks had to have been retrieved in a different room by one of them. There was no place for such a thing in this room.

“Redfield! Behind you!”

Hearing Jones's shout of warning, he ran to his left a few yards without looking to see the danger. Spinning around, he saw it was a good choice. The Uroboros creation delivered a massive swing with its right arm that would have gotten him if he hadn't run immediately out of the spot. It reversed the limb, violently wobbling as it resumed movement.

“Try to be more careful,” he scolded the trained and experienced BSAA agent.

Jones fired a few shots into the creature when its focus shifted to him and his daughter. Dr. Patel had joined the pair of brothers by the door and Claire went to stand with them at her father's insistence. He checked on David's position and the FBI agent aiming his weapon but staring, stunned into inaction. He dashed straight past the disgusting monster, perilously close.

The move worked and it altered its path, targeting him. This also gave David plenty of space to approach the threat a safe distance from the group. He lifted the flamethrower and dispersed the flames, burning the creature. It shrieked and wailed, the smell of sizzling flesh permeating the air.

After an effort which entailed a lot of running around, bullets, and fire, the creature collapsed. Chris witnessed it begin absorbing into itself, mass decreasing into a small puddle. He did a quick ammo count, satisfied they took it down in under ten minutes.

Four in the handgun and his magnum was empty. The others ran out with the minimal stock they had over a minute ago. They had primarily unloaded guns and a few knives. Well, this was going to be tough.

Excella glared at them from her position by the railing, disappointed they beat the monster she was so proud of.

“After you are done with your little vigilante mission, you should leave. There is nothing here worth throwing your lives away for.”

With that said, she walked away and out of sight. She was as crazy as Wesker. Didn't she get what dousing the entire planet in a virus like that would do? The BSAA had the authority, and he would arrest her for her crimes. This was worth his life if he had to lose it to stop a global outbreak.

Wesker started down the right staircase, clapping his hands slowly together.

“Nicely done, Chris. Course, you were one of my men.”

He seethed beneath the surface. “Will you let that go? I haven't been under your command for ten years.”

Wesker tilted his head a bit, studying him as he reached the bottom of the stairs. “Perhaps not under my command, but indisputably under my control. Look how you came here, like a rat in a maze. You are hopelessly lost, Chris. If you could only open your eyes and accept my new world...”

“That's never going to happen, Wesker!”

The outburst returned the smile to his lips. “You haven't changed, Chris. I admire that. Unfortunately, I tire of your interference.”

The smile left his face. He continued walking closer, his demeanor menacing and dangerous. He was poised to attack at any moment. Chris adjusted his stance to order the others to stay back and Wesker sprang into motion.

He raised his gun toward the black blur closing in and it was knocked out of his grasp. The arm was grabbed and twisted behind him and a kick sent him sprawling to the ground. He really hated getting his ass kicked by this man.

Wesker was on the move, targeting the other BSAA member. He watched David hit the wall and got up while his teammate scrambled to retrieve his fallen knife. Agent Anderson attempted an attack using what was possibly judo, hitting a solid punch against Wesker's cheek. It did little to sway their enemy and he socked Anderson across the jaw, knocking him off his feet.

Chris fired twice, missing but succeeding in expanding Wesker's proximity to the other fighters. He swung around and sought to gain his focus. He was not thrilled to have two shots remaining.

“Things are actually getting interesting, eh Chris?”

Wesker engaged him once again when he holstered his weapon and charged forward. He rammed into him, trying to bring the other man to the floor in a last-ditch effort. Wesker slid back a foot at most before halting his force. It ticked him off he was probably finding his attempt to win amusing.

He rammed a knee into his stomach twice and threw him to the ground. Chris rolled across the floor with a loud grunt of pain. Shit that hurt.

Anderson and David attacked Wesker together. Anderson fell to the ground, the result of a well placed kick, and David tried to take the gun out of his hand when their enemy pulled it out. The gun fired wild, bullet digging into the stone ground and the struggle continued. Wesker appeared mildly annoyed while tugging his arm away to break free. His teammate seemed desperate.

A second sudden misfire shot him in the head.

“David!” he yelled in shocked horror.

Not his whole team. Damn it, no...

He'd lost every soldier he volunteered to put under his command when he and Sheva were separated. These BSAA members didn't have a leader alive and counted on him for their survival and mission success. Sheva was by herself when he saw her. She ended up in a similar situation and had surviving members of Delta team with her last time they communicated via radio. Did she lose Delta team to this shit too?

In his final moment, David did make Wesker drop the gun. Jones retrieved the fallen weapon to shoot who threatened them. It was a stupid move with Wesker right there. He slapped the gun out of his hands and picked him up by the throat. Held aloft, the civilian struggled against the man's grip and Chris knew he had to act.

Claire ran at the man endangering her father.

“Leave him alone!” she shouted and shoved hard at the man's backside.

Caught by surprise, the sunglasses were knocked from his face and he released Jones, who hit the ground, coughing for air. Claire ran to her dad, asking if he was okay. Their opponent made an audible sound of annoyance and lifted his eyes to glare at the two.

Claire gasped when she saw his eyes, glowing red. Wesker stepped toward them and Dr. Patel threw his empty gun at his head. The already irritated man evaded the thrown object with a slight lean and fixed his eyes on him. Anderson was looking for an opening for hand to hand combat but otherwise stood by helpless with the civilians.

An aggravated enemy was not great and Chris knew it was the time for diverting his attention.

“Wesker!”

Down on one knee, he lined up a shot and fired his last rounds at the closest thing he would ever have to a nemesis. It was a personal grudge between them. They both excelled at getting in the other person's way.

Wesker weaved and swerved out of the path of the bullets, moving fast enough that he seemed to appear and disappear to his left and right side. Now stuck with a spent gun, he accepted the inevitable close encounter. The backhand felt unnecessary, but the handgun pointed in his face afterward was about right.

He erased the slight surprise in his expression and replaced it with clear defiance. He glowered into the eyes of the man who might end his life in a heartbeat. All Wesker had to do was squeeze the trigger and this was over. He wouldn't know what became of the world, or if his life and the lives of all the ones who died before him meant anything.

“Time to die, Chris.”


	9. Diplomatic Approach

Chris waited for death to come but it never happened. A woman approached the two at a run and slammed her boot into the side of Wesker's head, sending him veering away. A hand reached down to help him to his feet and he found himself face to face with his partner.

“Sheva!” he exclaimed in grateful surprise.

“Looks like I got here just in time, partner,” Sheva said with a smile.

The two turned to face Wesker, who was glaring at the BSAA agents with pure hatred. A realization lit up her eyes and she looked at him again.

“Chris, I have a way that may stop him but someone needs to hold him still.”

Sheva handed him a syringe. “It's a Progenitor-based serum. He needs this specific dosage to keep his virus stable and to maintain his strength.”

He eyed the serum in his open palm. A single injection would stop him?

“The only chance we have is to give him an overdose. It should act as a poison according to the document I found,” Sheva explained.

Chris sealed the syringe in his hand and nodded to her. “Okay then, I'll keep him busy and you inject this.”

He gave the syringe back to the other agent. Chris intended to explain the plan to the others but Wesker was done waiting for them to make a move. He strode straight for him and this would be painful.

He pulled his knife out and assumed a defensive stance. It became a very familiar exchange of Wesker avoiding his attacks and succeeding in dealing damage to him. Chris tanked the hits, knowing he would be feeling them prominently later.

Unfortunately, his inability to relay the plan had others try to get involved. The FBI agent and Jones tried to intercede in his defense when Sheva sneaking up didn't seem beneficial fast enough in their eyes. Wesker shoved him away and spin kicked the federal agent to the ground. Jones grew wary seeing that and hesitated an attack with the element of surprise gone.

This could work in his favor. He moved in on Wesker slow but he noticed and elbowed him in the chin. _Ow!_

He blinked tears from his eyes, ignored the pain. Wesker was turning on Sheva, who carried something that belonged to him. He couldn't let him get away.

Chris lunged and wrapped his arms around Wesker from behind. He got an annoyed and impatient growl for his action. Every ounce of strength went into pinning his arms to his sides. He was stronger than him and currently twisting and squirming to break the hold.

A moment was all they needed. Sheva hurried to them and plunged the syringe into Wesker's chest, injecting the contents. Once the fluid was injected, he released him and went to stand by Sheva to see if it worked.

Wesker grunted in pain, staggering. He fell onto his knees and bent over in pain. He tore the syringe out of his chest. Chris figured these were signs it was working.

“Did it work?” Sheva asked, watching Wesker.

“I think so,” he replied, sounding confident despite having his doubts.

Wesker got to his feet and stumbled. He clutched his head and started screaming in agony. The noise was inhuman and horrible, sounding more like a wounded animal than a man. He fell back onto his knees from the pain.

He lifted his head to glare furiously. He snarled at the group, irises glowing red. Chris stood in front to take his attention should he attempt retaliation.

“What have you done?”

He glanced up and Eva Jane was there, standing on the second floor. Not bothering to take the stairs, she vaulted over the railing and landed on the floor below. Straightening her knees that looked like they were paining her from the jump, she ran to Wesker and knelt by him. Placing her hands on the sides of his face, she looked in his eyes. She was frightened and worried.

“Are you okay? What's wrong?”

“Eva? What are you doing? You know Wesker?” he asked, his eyes wide in disbelief.

Breathing heavily, Wesker moved his eyes from Eva to Chris and then back to her.

“So Chris and his friends have been the ones you keep running off to see.”

“Eva, what's going on? How do you know him?” Chris demanded, starting to get angry in his confusion.

Wesker pushed her hands away from him and struggled to his feet. “Let's finish this.”

“Don't be stupid,” Eva said.

When he tried to take a step forward she placed a gentle hand on his chest. “Don't.”

Surprisingly, Wesker paused and stared down at the girl with green eyes. They truly were the brightest eyes he'd ever seen. He had to know what was between them. What was the relationship? _How_ was there a relationship?

“This is what you wish?” he asked.

“It is.”

She turned to Chris, who was staring at her along with the others.

“How do you know Wesker?” he asked again.

Eva didn't seem too happy about the situation. She was reluctant to tell whatever it was she held back. He waited through the beats of silence, rapidly growing impatient.

“Because he's my dad.”

“Better close that mouth before I put my boot in it, Chris,” Wesker snapped, referring to the gawking stare he was incapable of removing at the moment.

“Wesker, you have a kid?” he exclaimed, incredulous.

“Is it really so hard to believe, Chris?”

“Yeah!” he blurted, and once the first word was out he couldn't seem to keep himself from talking. “I can't imagine you having sex with anyone. You were always so..strict. Uh, very work-oriented and not big on the casual or taking it easy kind of personality.”

He blinked, hating his mind was trying to concoct scenarios in which Wesker got it on with a woman. His nose wrinkled, annoyed when a picture of a naked Wesker appeared for the third time. Just, no. Wait. Did he sound like he was saying he imagined Wesker having sex in the past?

“Not that I imagine you having sex with people,” he clarified. “I don't. I wouldn't. I, uh...”

Wesker, the jerk he was, would have let him continue babbling like an idiot. Only now that he ceased vocalizing his thoughts did the other speak.

“I was human once.”

It all dawned on him then, why he saw familiar things in the teenager. “I did see something of him in you, Eva. You answer your phone like he does, and you never show your emotions like him. Shit. You even dress the same and make similar expressions when you talk. I can't believe I didn't realize sooner. I knew I heard some of your comments before. It's because I heard Wesker say the same things!”

“Congratulations, Chris. I'm glad you have half a brain,” Wesker bitterly retorted.

He tried to walk a step but ended up stopping, wincing in pain while clutching his side.

“Dad!”

Eva wrapped her arms around him and Wesker leaned on her for support. She turned her gaze to Chris, tears threatening to emerge from her usually calm demeanor.

“What have I told you about calling me that?” Wesker muttered, irritated.

She ignored him and worriedly checked over his outward physical condition.

“What did you do to him?”

“They gave me an extra dose of my serum, Eva. I'll be fine once my body adjusts.”

“But those doses are supposed to be precise! Are you sure your body will be able to adjust? What if it doesn't? Dad, maybe-”

Wesker chuckled, causing her to stop talking. He smiled at her. It was the first time Chris had seen the man smile without menace or smugness attached to it in a long time.

“Don't worry about me. I can't die that easily.”

He wiped away a tear trailing down her cheek. Embarrassed to be crying in front of him and an audience of spectators, she wiped the tears from her eyes. Eva quickly regained a calm composure.

“Good. 'Cause you remember your promise, right?”

Wesker shook his head. “I have no idea what you're talking about.”

She stared long and hard at him and then a smile broke out across her face.

“You jerk!” she uttered, laughing, and playfully punched his stomach, careful it barely touched him. “Don't pretend!”

A smile crept onto Wesker's face. “Of course I won't forget. I did promise, didn't I?”

“Yep,” Eva said, still smiling.

Chris was stunned speechless. He could see the obvious affection and love these two held for each other and he couldn't believe it. Wesker was a monster and incapable of love. It was what he convinced himself of over the years to make it easier on his conscience to hunt the man with the knowledge he would have to kill him.

He always told himself Wesker's humanity was gone and only a hollow shell of the man he had known was left. But here before him, all those beliefs meant nothing. He could see human emotions in Wesker's eyes.

Hadn't he said he was saving the world through Uroboros? Perhaps the man really did believe he was somehow doing the right thing through his actions. It just didn't seem feasible. It was such an insane action.

Chris was frustrated at being perpetually confused about what was going on in this strange place.

“Why didn't you tell us Wesker was your dad? You lied to us about your name,” he accused.

Her smile faded and she looked at him, relaxed. “I told you my name is Eva Jane. You didn't ask whether Jane was my middle or last name.”

He grumbled under his breath how that wasn't the point and then remembered why they were all there. David was dead. This damn place killed other good men too.

Retrieving Wesker's gun, he pointed it at the man. “Where's Uroboros? I won't let you kill billions just so you can have your so called perfect world.”

Sheva followed her partner's lead, aiming her weapon at Wesker. Eva moved to stand protectively in front of her dad, arms spread out as if to block them from him.

“No! You're supposed to help him!”

His gaze narrowed on her while everyone else reacted in stunned puzzlement.

Wesker raised an eyebrow at her words. “Beg your pardon?”

She ignored him, focusing on Chris. “Wesker is doing this because he doesn't think he has any other choice. He thinks he's a monster and he has to act like one but he really isn't! He's sweet and kind... He's a good man.”

He stared at her like she had lost her mind. “Good? He's a monster. Wesker kills without remorse. He's trying to spread a virus that will murder billions of innocent people!”

“The experimental virus changed him. His sensitivity has decreased exponentially, which causes him to have trouble distinguishing what is morally acceptable and what isn't. The virus made him that way.”

“Simply ridiculous,” Wesker said. “Do not defend the unspeakable actions I have committed. I was fully aware of the choices I made and I do not regret them.”

“See!” she exclaimed. “The fact he knows they were unspeakable acts proves he retains his humanity despite the virus!”

Didn't that make this worse? A guy with his humanity wanting to end humanity kind of sounded like someone suicidal, yet mad enough to try and take everyone else with him.

“Eva...” Wesker began.

She continued to defend her father regardless of his opposition to it.

“He may have done terrible things but he also did good things. He destroyed Umbrella's research data which was the key to destroying that evil corporation and exposed himself to testify against them.”

“Umbrella's erased data..that was you...” Chris uttered.

He was genuinely shocked by this revelation and wasn't sure how to feel. Without the data destroyed, Umbrella never would have fallen so quickly.

“And can any of you tell me you've never done anything bad? Huh?”

He held up a hand for her to stop. “Look, get to the point.”

“Help him. Ask him to stop his plans for spreading Uroboros.”

The BSAA agent gawked for the second time in a short period. He couldn't believe what he was hearing.

“Yeah, if only it were that easy!”

Wesker stooped to retrieve his sunglasses from the floor and put them back on. He turned and fixed his gaze onto Chris, calm and collected in disposition.

“Well now, Chris. Why don't you try a diplomatic approach? It couldn't hurt.”

He searched Wesker's face, trying to see what he was thinking. It was impossible. Even without sunglasses, that man had always been a difficult person to read.

“Wesker, I don't want to play your games.,” he informed the older man, a flicker of annoyance crossing his features.

Red eyes flashed behind dark shades as they bore into him.

“Just ask, Redfield.”

The use of his last name caught his attention. With enormous hesitation, he lowered the gun slightly.

“Okay... I would certainly appreciate you not slaughtering billions so you can continue walking about like the pompous asshole you are.”

A disapproving growl emerged from Wesker's throat. “Without the sarcasm, Chris.”

He rolled his eyes. “Fine. Could you not spread Uroboros around the world, thereby infecting and killing innocent people?”

They stared at each other and after a lengthy moment, the other spoke. “Very well.”

Chris nearly choked on his own surprised reaction. “What?”

Before he could react, Wesker closed the distance between them. He pulled the BSAA agent close so he could lean in and whisper into his ear. “I do this for Eva, not you. Understand?”

His nemesis released his shirt and arm. He stared. “Uh, yeah... I..guess?”

Wesker smiled. “Good boy.”

The hateful glare returned. “But there's nothing you say that I can believe. I can't trust you.”

Chris wanted it to be clear he didn't fully believe Wesker was going to up and change. Why would he do such a thing? For his daughter? He didn't know the full extent of their relationship but he didn't trust Wesker to be one capable of unconditional love, even for his own child.

The other man tilted his head to the side a little like he often did, placing a hand to his chest where the needle stabbed him in discomfort.

“No...” Wesker said. “You cannot.”

This comment did the complete opposite of calming his nerves. Though the next words out of his mouth were definitely more settling.

“The crates by the door you entered through contain ammunition. You should find what you need in there.”

Sheva went to investigate with Jones and Agent Anderson. Chris stayed where he was to keep an eye on Wesker in the event he tried anything. A minute ticked by in complete silence.

“My gun?” Wesker asked, extending a gloved hand outward.

He handed the gun over despite his reservations. If Wesker wanted to kill him, he had no doubt Wesker could take the gun away at any moment and shoot him. Actually, he wouldn't need a gun to end him.

As a BSAA agent who trained to put on a lot of muscle, thinking it would counter Wesker, cold reality seeped in. It told him it wouldn't be the case as much as he wanted to believe he could hold his own in a fight. When the opponent had superhuman abilities, it kind of ruined any hope of that ever happening unless he had help.

Wesker holstered his gun. He inclined his head toward his daughter as a sign of visibly listening when she started speaking.

“Now Chris, I tried to tell you before. My father, er... I mean Wesker, thinks he saw old friends of yours.”


	10. Return of the Ashfords

_It's not polite to stare. It's not polite to stare._

Eva had gone back to her expressionless and businesslike demeanor. She was standing next to Wesker and now that he knew they were father and daughter, the two really did seem identical. Both wore black clothing, betrayed no emotions, and spoke in the same knowledgeable and assured manner. The only real difference between the way they talked was Wesker's distinguished accent, and his habit of extending every word he said as if savoring it. He was speaking this way at the moment.

“I did not think I saw, I did see them,” Wesker corrected his daughter, sounding a bit irritated.

He peered at Chris. “You remember the Ashfords, don't you? Ten years ago but still... Hard to forget such a loving family.”

It was easy to detect the sarcastic tone in his voice with the last sentence. Chris grimaced, remembering them better than he would like. They were one of the families who founded Umbrella, and they were as crazy as the others.

“Impossible, since you claimed to have defeated her, hm?”

“I did kill her. I watched her blow up into a million pieces and that's beside the fact the entire place self-destructed moments later.”

A thought struck him. “Wait, you said them.”

“Yes, her brother was with her.”

“What's going on?” he demanded. “I know Alfred Ashford is dead without a doubt! I saw his body and the amount of blood... There's no way you saw him.”

“Fine, Chris. Maybe I saw a different pair of blue-eyed, blonde-haired twins wandering around.”

The agent was ready to snap at Wesker, tired of the older man always implying he was an idiot or misguided. But he didn't get the chance to when Sheva interrupted. She didn't seem aware of the conversation ongoing as she strolled over, smiling.

“He was telling the truth!” Sheva shared. “There are even rounds for the magnum you're carrying, Chris.”

There was some relief with knowing they would have defensive capabilities again, but it didn't sit right the help came from Wesker. He claimed he was dropping his plans for creating a new world because Eva asked him to stop. After getting this far. After all his chatter about saving the planet by destroying what presently existed to create a new world. It was impossible to believe.

It was a nice thought to think he could have the kind of man he thought Wesker once was back. The former captain was someone he idolized to an extent, who saw he was worth something and capable. He believed in giving him a purpose and improving his skills when the military discarded him like any other soldier. He used to look for guidance in Wesker. That was all gone now.

A question nagged at the edge of this thoughts, interrupting the reminiscing on more positive days. His peripheral vision hooked on Sheva, making him change tracks in his mind. She was here. But where did she go when she disappeared on them?

“Hey Sheva, where did you run off to before?”

Coming to stand in front of him, she handed over the ammunition. Several clips for his handgun and a dozen rounds for his magnum. He promptly secured these to his belt as he waited for her reply.

“What do you mean?” she asked while stooping down to pack some ammo in a backpack.

“Before, when we ran into you. In the courtyard.”

Sheva stared blankly.

“You told us to follow you.”

His voice rose as he tried to understand why she wasn't comprehending. The others were looking at Sheva as well.

“We saw you,” Dr. Patel told her, confirming Chris's story. “And you ran on ahead but it led us here.”

“What are you talking about?” Sheva asked. “I found you here when I heard fighting.”

Chris was getting a sinking feeling in his stomach. The feeling he got when there was an unseen danger nearby. It was something he couldn't explain. He removed his eyes from Sheva, taking the time to scan the area. His eyes paused on Wesker's head. There was a red dot resting just above his ear and Chris formulated what it meant.

“Wesker, move!”

When he chose to turn his head speculatively at him instead, he sprang forward, shoving him out of the way. Startled by the sudden action, Wesker was unguarded enough to be knocked off his feet when Chris rammed his midsection. The two went sprawling to the floor right as a sharp sound echoed throughout the room.

The laser moved to Lucas's chest, rising to his forehead. It went unnoticed by the man himself, but Steven saw it and kicked his feet out from beneath him. His fall saved his life and the bullet hit the ground somewhere past him.

Immediate chaos ensued as everyone tried to figure out where the shots were coming from. Chris noted Eva dropped to one knee, scouring the room for possible sniper positions. Jones prioritized his daughter's safety and grabbed Claire's hand to lead her somewhere for cover.

The two ran for shelter behind boxes stacked to the left of the doors. Same boxes that had the ammo. Another shot rang out.

Nathan and Dr. Patel were there and Agent Anderson joined them. Anderson was clutching his left arm, hand covered in blood. Chris crossed the floor in a crawl, keeping low to hopefully not attract attention. He was nearing the only source of cover in the room that wouldn't put them closer to danger. Did somebody have eyes on the sniper?

“Barely got me,” the FBI agent said in response to a few glances.

A bullet dug into the stone centimeters from his hand. Shit. He rolled onto his back, drawing his gun out. Tracking the trajectory, he watched a shot narrowly miss Wesker, who didn't use his speed to avoid it. It was apparent the overdose of his serum was affecting his abilities more with the passage of time.

Jones perched on the end of the crates. He was searching for the shooter, handgun ready to fire. Sheva stood with her back against the wall and gun out but stayed still to avoid attracting sniper fire. He and Wesker were standing out in the open, avoiding the red light as it tried tracking them. Eva remained in her crouched position and hadn't moved from the spot as she tried to determine the location of the sniper. Everyone else was at least behind crates, but it wasn't best.

The sniper seemed preoccupied with mainly trying to hit Wesker and him. He saw the moment Eva used this to her advantage following another close call. He had to dive to the ground to avoid that one.

Eva smiled. “Gotcha.”

She took off running to the farther staircase. Jones must have located the source from her path or by his own means. Chris saw him aim and squeeze off a shot which did seem to miss its target. However, a surprised squeal emerged from the sniper, who jumped up and forward, exposing himself to those below.

A man dressed in an old fashioned red royalty outfit stood there, befuddled. His light hair was combed back and he had a sniper rifle in his hands.

“Hey you!” Eva yelled up to him.

She leaped over the final stairs, onto the railing. Showing skillful balance, she ran across the thin bar to reach where he stood. It was a close quarters fight now.

The sniper swung his rifle around to shoot at her but she got to him first. A booted foot smashed into his hands. The gun dropped from his grasp and she followed up with a thrust kick to his face. Releasing a whimper, he stumbled away from her and then ran for it.

Eva chased after him and Sheva pursued them, prompting Chris to run after them too. It was difficult to think on how he was running after a psycho, who by all rights should be dead. How many times did he have to stop his enemies before they didn't come back to haunt him?

He paused on the stairs when the others emerged from hiding unscathed except for one. He checked on Agent Anderson's injury. The man had made a makeshift tourniquet with a piece of his undershirt, stained through with blood.

“You alright?” he asked.

Anderson assured he was okay.

“He is the lesser Ashford,” Wesker said. “Eva and your partner will have nothing to worry about.”

Chris moved up the remaining stairs, calling back to the other, “Alfred's not the one I'm worried about. What if Alfred leads them to his sister. What do you calculate the odds are in a fight against Alexia?”

Wesker's features darkened and he quickly reached the stairs. The others followed his lead without hesitation.

Really? Did they forget he wouldn't have minded killing them all a few minutes ago? They didn't seem afraid of him. Cautious and on guard, maybe, but otherwise they almost seemed glad to be moving with him.

“He's strong but come on,” he muttered, moving for the door again. “Stupid Wesker isn't better. He's crazy. I could beat him in a fight... I just need to blind him...”

“Troubled, Chris?”

Startled out of his personal rant when he thought he was walking alone, he ordered in a loud voice, “Just keep moving.”

The resentment was obvious in his tone but he didn't care.

When they went through the doors at the top of the stairs, Chris knew where they were. It was ten years later, but he could never forget Ashford manor. The building had been designed to look similar to the Spencer mansion and it did appear a lot like the residence which used to be located near the Arklay Mountains.

“Does this mean we're in Antarctica?”

“Unlikely,” Wesker answered. “Someone brought this place to us.”

“How could anyone bring a building somewhere?” Nathan asked with a frown.

“They can't. It's not possible,” Jones dictated firmly. “Places don't just spring into existence.”

Wesker eyed the man. “Do you have an explanation for our current predicament?”

“No. But it's not plausible for a person to move entire locations, nor can a person spontaneously make a location appear.”

“The past few years I have learned a lot of things are possible,” Dr. Patel said to Jones. “I entertain the notion incredible things can happen in the world we live today.”

“You people said you didn't know how you came to be in the mansion, right?” Chris asked them.

The parties involved more or less confirmed his statement by their general expressions of agreement and confusion.

“So it's possible whoever is making these places appear is the one who brought all of you to the mansion.”

Lucas laughed with derision. “I suppose it's possible. But what's the point? Did we die and this is purgatory or hell? It would be good ol' Agent Redfield's hell then, wouldn't it? Nothing makes sense and it's hilarious.”

“How could someone do that?” Dr. Patel questioned, pretending he didn't hear Lucas's opinion much like the rest of them were doing. “More importantly, perhaps, why?”

“Come back here, you big sissy!” Eva bellowed.

The group standing in the foyer of the manor turned as one to see where her voice came from.

The sniper in red, a terrible color for a sniper to wear, came through the double doors on their right. Alfred ran right by them and up the stairs. Eva and Sheva burst through the doors seconds later.

Sheva halted to stand beside Chris when she saw them. Eva headed for the steps. She abruptly stopped when Alfred stopped running once he reached the top of the staircase. He turned to face the group and sneered cockily down at Eva.

“Now you're going to pay for hitting me!” he declared.

Eva narrowed her eyes. “Oh yeah? Then stop running and come fight me.”

“Ahahahahahahaha,” came the cold laugh of a female. “Do not be so eager to die.”

A woman came into view, blonde hair falling down her back which matched the hair color of her brother. She was dressed in a long purple dress, white gloves worn halfway up her arms. She had obvious beauty, marred by cold blue eyes. Looking down at them from the second floor railing, she smiled.

“Alexia!” Chris exclaimed.

He ran forward to stand by Eva and held his gun ready. She peered at him, fingers subconsciously stroking a red brooch she wore around her neck. Her icy gaze examined him for a moment before a wicked smile tugged up the corners of her lips.

“Ah, the other sibling. You and your sister destroyed my plans for this world. I will destroy you.”

Following her promise, she motioned to Alfred, “Fetch the Redfield girl.”

Alfred nodded and hurried off to do her bidding, disappearing behind a wooden door on the right.

Alarmed by her words, he shouted, “What are you talking about?”

He didn't have long to wait. Alfred returned, dragging a woman with him by the arm. The woman had reddish brown hair pulled back in a ponytail. She wore tight blue jeans, a long sleeve pink shirt, and a white jean jacket over her shirt. He couldn't see her face right then, but he didn't need to.

“Chris!” Claire yelled when she saw him, and attempted to run to him.

Alfred yanked her backward by the ponytail and she cried out in pain. He dragged her over to stand by Alexia, holding onto her arm and hair. Chris stared up at his sister in horror and fear.

“Claire! Don't you touch her!” he raged, glaring at the twins and itching to move on them.

“Taking hostages, Alexia? My, how you've lowered yourself. I thought the Ashford family prided itself on honor. Do you consider this honorable?” Wesker ridiculed as he came to stand with his daughter and him.

Alexia shifted her gaze to the man and she gave a sly smile. “You again... Peculiar to see you standing beside a Redfield. Perhaps it is _you_ who have lost their way.”

They stared at each other, each wearing their own manipulative smiles on their faces. He no longer visibly showed his current weakened condition from the extra dose of serum, however, he soon learned Alexia could detect it with her inhuman senses.

“Perhaps you are forced to side with such weak creatures because you yourself are too powerless. I told you before when you came for my virus, you are not worthy of its power,” she shrewdly informed Wesker.

“Your research on the T-Veronica virus proved to be somewhat useless in practical application, so don't get too prideful, Alexia,” he retorted.

She didn't care for his insult and she didn't care for his brisk tone. Alexia's eyes grew dark and she lowered her hand from her brooch. Her cold eyes stared daggers into the man.

“I came for the elder Redfield sibling, but perhaps I shall first remove you from this earth. Witness the power of the T-Veronica virus. I remember the last time you saw it, you fled. You will not escape this time.”

With those words, Alexia began her descent down the staircase and Chris felt like it was total deja vu. The transformation was happening like it did ten years ago when he first saw it happen. As the woman descended the stairs, her body engulfed in bright flames.

Her clothes burned away, the clasp of her brooch breaking and falling onto the steps. But even as her pale white skin was exposed, it hardened and became stone. Her blonde hair blew behind her and froze as it turned to the same rocky texture as the rest of her body. Her blue eyes began to glow with a fiery power and they transformed to a yellow-gold color. Strange veins spread from her hair to her arm. Around her back they wrapped, her entire right arm and left hip and leg covered in them.

She resembled the very monster she was inside. He already dealt with this bitch in the past and it hadn't exactly been a picnic. Unfortunately, it didn't look like he had a choice in this. Alexia was nearing the bottom of the stairs. Although she was coming to kill Wesker, if she killed him, she would go after the rest of them. Alexia desired all of humanity to become her slaves.

Chris took his magnum out and pointed it at her. He fired three magnum rounds into her face. She appeared vaguely disgruntled by the powerful rounds and nothing more encouraging. It would serve to provide an opening.

“Claire! Run!”

His sister made her move, elbowing Alfred in the face. She tried for the stairs. Hearing Alfred cry out in pain, Alexia slowly turned her attention onto Claire. Well, he would have liked a longer opening.

“The rest of you get out of here!” Chris ordered and turned back to Alexia, who was advancing toward his sister.

He hesitated to shoot since his sister was so close and Wesker ran by in a blur. He smashed a fist against Alexia's face and the woman turned, waving an arm in his direction. Blood spurted from her wrist onto the floor, and the blood self-combusted into fire within seconds. Wesker flipped away to avoid the flames and Eva sprang into action.

The girl was acrobatic. She dove to avoid flames and jumped onto the railing, running up and then leaping off. She attacked Alexia with a twisting kick in mid-air. The girl wasn't even using a weapon as she fought the powerful woman. That was some training she got from her dad.

Chris wanted to take this time to retrieve his sister. He was forced to fling himself away from the stairs when fire erupted beneath his feet. He moved out of the spot fast and could feel the searing heat licking at his boots. Lifting his head after regaining his breath and stance, he saw his sister standing by the doorway waiting for him.

“Chris, come on!” she shouted.

He scrambled to his feet and yelled for everyone to retreat back the way they came. When they exited the manor doors, they stood in a stone courtyard different from the one in Spencer's mansion. This was the courtyard Chris remembered from his time in the Antarctic.

Wesker raced through the doors with Eva slung over his back. The teenager was kicking and hitting at him to get down. They were the last to retreat.

“Let go! I can beat her!” Eva shrieked. “Let me kick that bitch's ass!”

Wesker stopped running when he reached the others gathered near the large reflecting pool in the courtyard. He put the enraged girl on her feet. As soon as she was free, she ran for the manor doors. When she tried to open them, they didn't budge. Eva swore and kicked the door angrily. Somehow, they must have locked behind them.


	11. Unforeseen Danger

It was a nice spot they had found. The manor house and grounds had class. Now if only there wasn't possible danger around every corner, Noel could enjoy it.

Oh, who was he kidding? He couldn't relax for a second. His daughter was trapped here with him. Where “here” was, no one knew. One minute he was teaching his kid how to properly check her mirrors, and the next they were in a mansion foyer in Colorado. But then, according to Chris, they were in Africa. Now, they were in Antarctica, or not. Impossible to understand.

He watched Eva grumpily make her way over to the group. She plopped down cross-legged on the ground beside Nathan and Steven. Crossing her arms firmly, she glared at Wesker.

“If you hadn't interfered I could have killed her.”

Wesker gave her a very serious look. “I don't want you to ever have to kill anyone.”

Eva got quiet when he said that and after a long moment of silence, her calm composure was intact.

“I'm sorry. I was being reckless,” she apologized. “You taught me better than that.”

Wesker merely nodded and turned his gaze to Agent Redfield. “If you don't mind, I propose we rest.”

He seemed taken aback by the other man asking permission to make a suggestion. The agent stared at Wesker in surprised wonder and it prompted raised eyebrows above his sunglasses. He seemed like a similar type to the BSAA soldiers, except..insane? Selfish? Evil? Who was this Wesker?

“Are you going to get like this every time I say something, Chris?”

“Just not used to you asking for, well, anything,” Redfield stammered, a scowl overtaking his face from the delivery of his explanation.

Wesker regarded the BSAA agent for a moment. He chose not to say anything and went to sit on the edge of the reflecting pool beside Redfield's sister and Lucas. Noel looked up as his daughter came to sit by him.

“I've been thinking.”

“About?”

“I never should have asked you to take me driving after school.”

“Claire-”

“I begged you and talked you into it even though you were really tired from work. It's my fault we're in this trouble. I-”

“Claire, stop.”

She did stop. He breathed in and out, thinking on every awful thing they had seen and heard so far. This wasn't the first time his whole life up and changed without warning. Claire was a baby when he had to take his family into witness protection and change their last name, his career, their home... She didn't know. He would probably never tell her.

“This isn't your fault. You didn't bring us wherever we are. Someone or something else did. We'll find our way home in the end. I promise. I won't let anything happen to change that. Okay?”

She met his eyes briefly before looking away at the water nearby. “Okay.”

“Claire, I suppose an explanation is in order,” Agent Redfield said, drawing their attention. “This is Sheva Alomar, my current partner from the BSAA's West African branch. I was deployed in a country in Africa to search for evidence of a potential new bio-threat. Alpha and Delta teams were already on the ground when Sheva and I arrived. We learned of a new virus called Uroboros and that the terrorist, Albert Wesker, was alive.”

“Didn't realize I signed on for a worldwide tour,” Lucas commented with a chuckle.

Noel didn't like how he was becoming more comfortable as time passed. How did he do that? He hated being around men who were a potential danger to his daughter and he couldn't do much about it.

Redfield looked away from Lucas and finished. “The mansion I found all of you in appeared on the map and it was like I walked right out of daytime in Africa to nighttime in Colorado.”

“I don't know what's going on but I have this bad feeling,” Nathan told them, frowning up at the starry sky.

“Yeah, me too,” Steven agreed. “Somebody's messing with us.”

“For now we should forget about the why and just focus on surviving,” said Agent Redfield.

“But if we can't figure out who or what is doing this, we may never get out of here,” Sheva lamented.

“Yeah, it's like we keep going in circles,” Steven said. “What's up with this place? There's no logic to it.”

Redfield looked at him and his brother. “You would know. Where did you wander off earlier? That was a bad idea.”

“Brothers sneak off to steal shit, end up in deep shit.”

“Claire!” he uttered in surprise.

“What? I've seen movies,” she excused. “And the older one keeps looking at this huge diamond he must have picked up when he ditched our group for a while.”

Nathan frowned at her. “It's a gemstone.”

“Whatever. Same thing.”

“Gemstones are rarer,” he argued, to the interest of zero people.

“Claire, watch your language.”

“Right. Sorry...”

“So anyway, Claire,” Agent Redfield said, speaking to his sister. “Introductions. This young woman over here is named Claire too, and with her is her father... Noel, right?”

Noel nodded affirmation with a polite smile.

“Lucas, Steven... Nathan, Dr. Patel, and Anderson. Anderson's an agent with the FBI. Dr. Patel and Lucas are working with him on some classified case he won't discuss. Steven and Nathan are brothers.”

“It's nice to meet everyone,” Claire said with a polite smile. “Sorry it couldn't be under better circumstances.”

Murmurs of agreement all around.

“Wesker has decided to take a break from terrorism and come along with us to get out of here. This is Eva. She's his daughter.”

Claire nodded slowly at Agent Redfield, registering what he said. “Alright.”

“Alright?” Redfield asked, shocked by her lack of reaction. “You don't wanna ask how that happened or anything?”

Noel noticed Wesker taking a renewed interest in the BSAA agent's sibling.

She shrugged. “No. I'm alright working together.”

Staring at his sister, he shifted his eyes to Wesker and then back at her. Agent Redfield was suspicious now and Noel was getting a very bad feeling. Something was wrong.

“Well good,” Redfield said. “Because we're doing it as a favor for Mom. She couldn't stand me and Wesker fighting all the time. You know Mom.”

“Yeah, alright,” Claire replied, agreeable.

Wesker got to his feet quick and Agent Redfield pulled his gun on her. The woman's eyes widened at the sight of the gun and she got to her own feet, hands up in surrender. Noel glanced at the confused faces of the others. His expression probably matched theirs. What was going on?

“Whoa, Chris! What gives?”

“What gives? You're not Claire!” Agent Redfield yelled.

“Of course I am. Look at me.”

He glared. “I told you our mom asked us to do a favor and you said alright.”

“Yeah...”

“Our parents have been dead for over fifteen years! They died in a car crash. The real Claire would know that!”

This wasn't his sister? The Claire look-alike dropped the innocent stare and a smile took its place. Noel shifted and kept his daughter close.

“Darn. Well there wasn't enough time for me to absorb all of her information yet. It always starts with the most recent or important memories. Very unlucky for me that you asked a question from the past. You're good. Weren't so good when I was running around as your partner there.”

The Claire look-alike pointed at Sheva and Agent Redfield looked angry.

“You were the one who led us into Excella and Wesker's trap.”

The malicious smile grew. Noel let his fingers come to rest on his handgun. He didn't know how this would turn out.

“Where's Claire?” Redfield demanded. “Was she ever really here?”

“Oh yes. Still in the hands of the Ashfords since you left her behind. You abandoned your own flesh and blood.”

The agent clenched his fists. “I thought you were her. I never would have left her if you hadn't tricked me.”

Noel observed him tighten his grip on his gun, finger flexing near the trigger. The Claire look-alike saw this and started calmly strolling back and forth among them. No worry about getting shot. That was worrying.

“Hey, don't move!”

She laughed at the agent. “What are you going to do? Shoot your own sister?”

“You aren't Claire!”

The Claire look-alike ignored him and turned on Lucas. “Oh my... Now you're a fun one. So many deaths and zero guilt. You're my kind of guy.”

Lucas stared at her. “Excuse me?”

His confusion turned to shock when suddenly the Claire look-alike transformed into a young woman with light brown hair and brown eyes. She couldn't have been more than five years older than his daughter.

“How could you kill me, Lucas? I think I might have loved you... How could you kill me like that?”

“You aren't her,” the man said. “She was infected and had to die.”

She cackled before saying, “I know, Lucas Wilson.”

She extended the pronunciation on the name. Wilson? Was it his real last name?

“You killed her. Killed her like all the others you murdered. And you don't feel bad, do you? You just keep on killing without thinking how these people have friends and family. Admirable.”

The look-alike switched her gaze to Steven and a new smile adorned her face.

“Do you know what your sin is, Steven?”

She was transforming again and now she was a man with curly brown hair and blue eyes. He had a few days growth on his face and wore a white t-shirt and faded blue jeans. Noel assumed this man was someone Steven knew personally.

“Didn't you ever hear the rule, never date your friend's ex?” the look-alike asked, taunting. “It was your love for that girl that got her killed, Steven. He drank because of you. She didn't even love you.”

The young man winced but kept his composure. “You're not him cause he's dead. Who the hell are you?”

“A shapeshifter?” Noel pondered. “Like in fairy tales?”

The look-alike sneered as though insulted. “ _I_ am no mere shapeshifter!”

He was changing and now he was Agent Redfield, decked out in the entire uniform.

“I am not human. I am so much more than that.”

“Ugh, don't be me when you say that asshole,” Redfield complained, aiming his weapon at..well, himself.

The look-alike chuckled. “You want to know what I am? I am sin. You pathetic humans give me life, and the amount of sinning this particular group has done helped me become quite strong.”

“You're..what?”

“I am Sin,” his look-alike answered the BSAA agent, speaking each word slow. “Sin. And you have caught my attention, Christopher.”

He didn't seem to like someone using his full name. Or could be he didn't like its usage because of the one saying it. What did this thing mean by calling itself “sin”?

“Sin? Is that _your_ name or something?” Agent Redfield asked, trying to understand.

His look-alike scoffed. “Technically I have no name. I am quite literally sin. You know, evil. Every time someone sins I get a little stronger. As you can imagine, in this world I have a lot of power.”

The look-alike, or rather, Sin, smirked. “Did you like my mansion? Getting to see all your friends again, Christopher. Wasn't that nice?”

Redfield clenched his teeth tightly, glaring at Sin with growing anger. He wanted nothing more than to put a bullet through this thing's skull. Noel experienced the desire on more than one occasion with a particularly nasty perp. But should the agent shoot? If he was responsible for the mess they were in, did they need him to get them out of it?

“What do you want?” the agent asked.

He found the question amusing. “What do I want, Christopher? I want to keep playing my game. You all are playing it so nicely. Lost some people along the way though, haven't we?”

Sin was morphing from the agent to a woman. He transformed into Jill and Redfield immediately flared up in rage.

“You son of a bitch! Don't you look like her. Not her!”

Sin laughed. It was Jill's laugh. It must hurt the man who was once her partner to hear. Joel never lost a partner except when he had to leave his former life behind. But the man he befriended and partnered with for years wasn't dead. What Sin was doing right here was cruel.

“Shame you let this one go, Christopher. Your partner for a decade and you let her take a fall for you. Did you know she wasn't supposed to die yet? Belief you're dying is a powerful thing. Can actually stop a heart. In my stories, no one survives.”

“Stop talking with her!”

“Now you're walking around with the man responsible like you're going to be teammates.”

“So this game is about Chris, hm?” Wesker asked, striding up to Redfield. “Why don't I end it then.”

He grabbed the back of Agent Redfield's neck, dragging him against himself, and placed his gun to the side of the startled man's head. The sudden attack made his own gun slip from his fingers and it clattered to the ground. Noel drew his weapon, uncertain and wary. He kept it lowered but was prepared to intercede if necessary. He clicked the safety off.

“Wesker! What the hell?”

The man ignored him as he peered at Sin, waiting to see its reaction. Intrigue came over Jill's features. Sin shifted its stance a few times before voicing its opinion.

“No fun, no fun. Taking him out of the game so early on ruins all the fun!”

Sin pouted, crossing its arms across its chest and tapping a booted foot. His, her, it. He felt like he was losing his mind to be seeing a genuine shapeshifter in front of his eyes. Him, the grounded former cop who didn't believe in supernatural things. He was far more open to the concept _now_.

“Christopher is the heart of this. It's beautiful how pure a soul he has and I want to see it get dirty. I wonder how much heartache it will take to break.”

Sin backed toward a door on the right of where they were gathered.

“A word of caution for you, Christopher. Everyone in your little group isn't as trustworthy as you might like to think. Someone is lying about their real intentions here. Someone is going to try to kill one of your group and they are going to try to kidnap another. Can you imagine who would do such a thing? I know I can. Find the deceiver and much will be answered for you, Christopher. Do you have the heart to take such betrayal?” After a pause, Sin added, “Again?”

Then he..or it..was gone, pushing through the door and out of the courtyard. As soon as Sin was out of sight, Wesker removed his gun from Agent Redfield's head and let him go. Stepping away quickly, the agent rubbed the back of his neck and anger flashed across his features.

“What was that? You turning on me already?”

“That person or thing which calls itself Sin, wasn't going to leave without someone dying unless I did something drastic. You seem to be the main event for it. I thought threatening you would work best. It worked so don't complain.”

The BSAA agent stared at him somewhat puzzled, but the anger returned fast. “You used me!”

“When have I not?”

Something snapped in the agent and he ran for Wesker. Seeing what was about to happen, Nathan and Steven got in his way and held him back as he struggled to jump the offending man. The agent tempered his aggression but the look of amusement on Wesker's face wasn't helping any.

“You two can sort out your differences later,” Nathan suggested. “Now's not the time for fighting among ourselves.”

“I'm not so sure about that,” Agent Anderson said.

The brothers released him and Redfield turned to the federal agent. “What do you mean?”

“Assuming Sin is telling the truth, one of us is a traitor. One of us doesn't want the same things as the rest.”

Redfield waved the supposition away. “That thing was just messing with us. There are no traitors here. Well, except for Wesker, but he's going to behave, right?”

Wesker gave him a derisive look but said nothing when Eva elbowed him sharply in the rib. Sheva glanced around at the others, much like Noel was doing, and agreed.

“Chris is right. This thing is lying.”

Agent Redfield retrieved his gun and returned it to his thigh holster. “Alright. We need to figure out what that thing meant by playing games with us. We can do it while searching for my sister, and a way out of this place. Now I don't...”

He trailed off and stood staring straight ahead, looking very out of it.

“Chris?” Sheva asked.

Agent Redfield placed a hand to his chest as his face contorted in pain. “My chest..nguuh...”

He gasped, releasing a grunt of pain. Harsh coughing wracked his body and a hand he brought to his mouth came back with specks of blood. Noel didn't have much time to worry on the blood because the agent was clutching his chest with both hands, in obvious discomfort. He stumbled forward while making quiet sounds of pain.

“Aaaughh!” the agent screamed and his body went slack.

They watched him collapse to his knees, falling onto his back. He was unconscious. Everyone stared at their unmoving leader and Eva was first to reach his side. She checked for a pulse, confirming there was one and that he was breathing steady.

“What happened to him? What's wrong?” Sheva asked.

The other BSAA agent came to kneel beside Eva, who shook her head. “I don't know.”

“He's been having fits of really bad headaches and pain before losing consciousness,” Lucas mentioned. “This is the first time he coughed up blood.”

“I know what this is,” Wesker said. “Did you see him get injected with anything?”

All eyes moved to him. Did he have answers? His daughter said she was a genius. Was he very intelligent too? He had to be more experienced than any of them with these types of things at least.

Agent Anderson answered the question. “No. Do you know what's wrong with him?”

“Las Plagas.”

Wesker came closer to the agent and knelt, opening an eyelid. Noel moved in out of curiosity. He wondered what he was checking for.

“His eyes aren't red. That's good. But it won't be long now. Coughing blood means the eggs have hatched. It's only a matter of time before the parasites control his mind.”

“But there's a cure, right? The president's daughter and the American agent who rescued her from that report were infected, but they were cured. We can cure Chris too, right?” Eva questioned.

Noel wondered why the girl cared. She placed a lot of belief in the BSAA agent as well, wanting him to stop her father from a homicidal mission. He looked over to his daughter and thought she seemed rather concerned despite meeting Redfield today. Perhaps it wasn't so strange for them to care about another person. It was a good thing.

“They used a special laser to destroy the parasites in their bodies. We don't have a laser like that here.”

Her voice got quieter. “You'll find a way to save him, right Dad?”

“What did I say about calling me that?”

You'll find a way, right?” she asked again, pressing for an answer.

“For now we wait for Chris to wake up.”

There might not be a way to save him. He didn't like the idea of the guy trying to get everyone out of this mess dying. Would this Wesker continue his attempt for global infection? Would Sin come back and want everyone dead since the man he wished to play a game with was gone? He looked at the female BSAA agent and hoped she would be able to stand in his place for now.


	12. Test Subject E. Wesker

The group sat in almost complete silence for over an hour, waiting for Agent Redfield to regain consciousness. It was awkward and uncomfortable for everyone except Wesker, who didn't seem to care one way or the other. He sat against the wall of the manor, near the agent's feet. Eva had placed Redfield's head in her lap and was stroking his hair absentmindedly through her fingers. Wesker was watching his daughter from behind his dark sunglasses as she did this.

“Why do you care for him?”

Grateful for someone to break the silence, those who were awake listened in for lack of anything better to do. Noel rubbed his temple and picked up his glasses from the ground to put them on. Eva continued staring down at the agent's troubled rest.

“He's my last hope.”

Surprise broke through Wesker's neutral expression. “Last hope?”

“Yes. He's the only one who can save you.”

“There you go again with the 'saving me' bit. What makes you think I need saving?”

“You do need saving. You may not admit it to yourself, but you don't want to be evil and do things that hurt people. You pretend you don't care. I can see it in your face. You feel burdened by the fact you've lost your humanity. In the beginning, you thought it would be great because then you could defeat Umbrella and show everyone the monster they created. But you aren't a monster.

“When you succeeded in destroying Umbrella you realized that. You saw it in the way you continued to allow certain people to live when it would have been easier to kill them. I think..you refuse to admit it to yourself. You see those eyes of yours in the mirror and it's a constant reminder of the things you've done in order to bring justice to the world by crushing Umbrella. You should be proud of those eyes. To me, they symbolize what you sacrificed so the rest of the world could be safe.”

Wesker laughed softly. “You think I saved the world? The man you're holding onto so tightly for my saving, knows I planned to do the opposite. So why would he help you?”

She smiled. “By being here, he's helping plenty. And you don't hate Chris as much as you pretend to.”

“Oh?” Wesker asked, clearly amused by her explanation of his actions and the way he was.

“That's right. If you really hated him that much then he would be long dead. He's a regular human while you are a lot more powerful. You could kill him in a heartbeat if you wanted.”

“I have tried to kill him many times. Chris has simply proven more resilient than I anticipated.”

Eva shook her head in disagreement. “When you put your gun to his head, why don't you pull the trigger?”

“Today?”

She nodded. “Sure. Today. I was observing from a distance when you were fighting. Answer the question.”

They stared at one another for a moment. Wesker surprised them when he laughed.

“Desideratum,” he murmured.

“Desi- What?”

“Desideratum or necessary. I suppose you could say that is what Chris is to me and what I am to him. We both need each other to keep ourselves going. You see, he..is damaged like me.”

“What do you mean damaged?” she asked, still confused.

Wesker merely smiled to himself and was saved from answering when a groan escaped Agent Redfield.

“Is this what it feels like to have your insides ripped out?”

He sounded miserable. Noel got to his feet and groaned a little himself. He was feeling stiff after sitting on the ground for an extended period. His daughter was sleeping near his right foot, head cushioned by his suit jacket. He stooped to wake her, thinking they might be moving on now that their designated leader was conscious.

Agent Redfield sat upright and noticed he had been lying in Eva's lap but said nothing about it. He stood with a grunt from the effort, a hand held to his chest. Lowering the hand after a few moments, Wesker moved to a standing position while Sheva straightened from her leaning position close by. Dr. Patel finished changing Agent Anderson's bandage on his arm, and Steven kicked his brother awake.

The male BSAA agent turned his eyes to Wesker. “How much time do I have?”

“A few hours.”

Eva examined Redfield's relaxed expression. “You know what's wrong with you?”

He met her gaze. “I figured it out when my chest felt like it was on fire. It's just how the parasite known as Las Plagas was described to affect the host in the Kennedy Report.”

She continued to study his face and seemed very puzzled about his serene attitude. Noel didn't know what this “Las Plagas” parasite was. He would prefer not to know. It didn't sound pleasant.

“Aren't you afraid?” she asked him quietly. “We'll have to shoot you if you change. I would be scared if a parasite like that was inside my body. I don't want to die and you can't want to either. How can you be so calm?”

Agent Redfield looked her in the eyes when he answered. “I'm far from calm, Eva. My sister is out there in the hands of insane twins. The rest of us are trapped in this place, forced to play a game by a nutcase calling himself Sin. But it's not the end of the world if I die.”

“Dad? What time is it?”

Noel couldn't help himself. “What timezone, kid?”

She scoffed. “Thanks, Dad. What would I do without you?”

Claire got to her feet and looked at the BSAA agent when she realized he was talking.

“I don't know if I believe in Heaven, but if there is some kind of afterlife, I have people waiting for me. Friends, family… I knew the risks and the odds when I founded the BSAA and became a field agent. Everyone dies so it's a matter of time for everyone. For the amount of good I’ve done, I’d say it's okay if my time's up.”

Eva scuffed the cement with her boot. “I wish I were that brave.”

“Are you joking? You might be the only Wesker I know with their head on straight.”

“You're just saying that...”

“I'm not,” he said, placing a hand on her shoulder for reassurance.

Her cheeks flushed a light pink tinge. Blushing profusely, she kept her eyes lowered to the ground. Noel looked to see how her dad was taking the compliments. It was harder to tell with the sunglasses on, but his lips were turned downward.

Forget their shared compliments. When Wesker saw his daughter's shyness in reaction to the agent, he started flexing his right hand. As long as the guy kept it at his side, Noel wouldn't have to get involved. He really didn't think he would survive a fight against someone with that man's abilities, and he had a child to protect as well.

Completely oblivious to the effect he was having on the two, Agent Redfield glanced at Wesker before looking around a moment. He extended an arm toward a red door.

“Door number three?”

There were three doors to choose from in this area. One which Sin left through, one which led to the Ashford manor mysteriously locked, and the one Redfield pointed to. Wesker took the lead, brushing past the BSAA agent unnecessarily hard. It caused him to spin in place a little and nearly lose his balance.

“I'll lead,” said Wesker. “In case you have one of your fainting spells.”

“Fainting-”

The man quite clearly cut his angry retort short and probably prevented some cussing from spilling out. It was difficult to believe these two were trying to be on the same side. He'd be lying to say he wasn't entertained and curious how it would work out.

He and his daughter followed behind the majority of the group, Sheva and Agent Anderson in the rear. They came into a hallway with a single door straight ahead. Passing through this second door, they found themselves in a room with decaying walls and floors. To the left and right of the doorway were tall, round cages. There were tables with scattered papers and books.

Dr. Patel wandered over to a table. On the other side of the room, there was a set of crumbling stone steps leading to higher floor. A door to the left on the higher platform would be where they were going it would seem.

Agent Redfield walked farther into the room with Sheva. Noel moved to stay near them. They felt like the safest bet. They appeared to be surveying their surroundings for anything of interest so he mimicked them.

Eva remained close to her father while he strolled to one of the cages and examined it. The girl had the greenest eyes. Was Wesker looking to learn what was contained in the cages, if anything? The remaining group members stood around by the door they came through, unsure of what to do. Noel was aware he was behaving similarly, just less obvious about not knowing what to do.

Apparently bored with the cage, the teenage girl made her way back to the others near the door. She stood around with them, waiting much the same. Her fingers constantly fingered her holstered gun as the rest of her tried to keep still. Claire was watching her and when she decided to make conversation with someone her age, he spied on them.

“So Wesker's your dad, huh?” Claire asked, likely for lack of anything better to say.

He observed Eva's gaze was on the two BSAA agents conversing with each other in the center of the room. They spoke in low voices. She didn't bother to look at his daughter when she replied.

“Yeah.”

“You definitely take after him.”

“Is that so?” Eva asked, still watching the agents.

“Well you guys dress the same and act similar. Not only that. The blood relation is really obvious when you look at the two of you standing together. You guys have the same hair and general facial features and everything. I wonder where you got your green eyes from though. They're a very pretty color. They're the greenest I've ever seen.”

“You don't resemble _your_ dad.”

Claire nodded in agreement. “Yeah. Everybody says I take after my mom.”

Eva glanced sideways at her, studying her wavy blonde hair briefly. “Oh. Must be nice.”

She was speaking in the disinterested tone again. Her attempts socializing with the other teenager not having much success, she chose a different subject other than family. Smart thinking.

“So you have a crush on Agent Redfield?”

“Uh-huh. Wait, what?” Eva stammered, glancing away from the agents fast as her face reddened.

“Oh, you must be joking.”

Hearing the loud voice, the girls turned to find Wesker staring at them with astonishment written all over his face. He crossed his arms on his chest and tightened his stance. “A Redfield, Eva? Truly?”

Claire placed her hands on her hips. “She can like who she wants.”

“Wha-? I don't... Huh?” Eva stuttered.

Unable to form a sentence, she fell silent.

“Aside from being someone I despise, Chris is far too old for you. Eva, he's thirty-five and even-”

“You can't help who you like,” Claire interrupted. “I don't care how old he is. _I_ think he's cute.”

The expression on Wesker's face when Claire described Redfield as cute was priceless, and Eva started to laugh. Noel hoped his daughter didn't get any ideas about dating someone that old. He would never allow it. In fact, he decided right there he might ban her from dating anyone until she was at least twenty. Okay... Eighteen.

The BSAA agents were glancing in their direction, doubtlessly wondering what was going on to create laughter. Sheva turned from the laughing girl wearing a conflicted look. Noel eyed her as she ventured to one of the cages, seemingly without purpose. Eva forced herself to stop laughing and Claire nudged her in the ribs with an elbow.

“He's looking over here,” she whispered to Eva.

She strained to avoid looking in the agent's direction, face reddening. Claire happened to meet his solemn stare she liked to call, “a dad look”, and blushed slightly herself. She put a hand to her forehead, hiding part of her face. Embarrassed to be spotted viewing someone of the opposite gender as eye candy. Noel wished he never learned the term, but this wasn't the first time he caught her ogling “cuties”. They were typically her age though.

“Uh, Mr. Wesker?” Dr. Patel began. He had picked up a few sheets of paper from a table. “I think these memos concern you.”

Everyone was looking at him and Wesker didn't move or react, so he started reading the paper to them.

_“Memo 1, 1993. R-Virus (Regenerative virus) injected into new test subject E. Wesker at fourteen months of age. Change in eye color from blue to green observed. Former Umbrella employee J. Wesker attempted to prevent our retrieval of test subject and was terminated at 1700 hours. Unfortunately, Umbrella employee A. Wesker arrived home early and witnessed her termination. Team four was destroyed. Spencer has told him team four went rogue to kill his family._

_“If any questions are asked, you are to say Spencer had no knowledge of the attack. Though Spencer was disappointed team four failed to retrieve subject, he is pleased we were successful in eliminating J. Wesker, as he deemed her a distraction to one of his top employees. It seems A. Wesker is unaware of subject's injection and this will also please Spencer greatly. Perhaps this will be a lesson to A. Wesker for disagreeing with Spencer's goals to create bio-weapons and for leaving the lab.”_

Dr. Patel lowered the sheet of paper, a thoughtful expression on his face. “What was your first name again?”

“Albert,” Agent Redfield answered for him.

He seemed shocked by what he was hearing. Wesker was looking increasingly angry and Eva was beyond horrified. She couldn't seem to tear her gaze away from Dr. Patel. What an awful thing to discover happened.

“It says E. Wesker was supposed to be a test subject. If you're the A. Wesker mentioned here, then Eva is E. Wesker. She was injected with something as a child!”

Dr. Patel glanced down at the memo. “Something called the R-Virus. The 'R' standing for regenerative. I haven't noticed anything strange about her. Have there been any childhood incidents which warrant suspicion? Regenerative... What do you suppose that means?”

The scientist was enthralled in his own mind, speculating on the possibilities out loud. He didn't seem attentive enough to hear any answers if they were given, which they were not. Wesker was occupied fuming.

“They infected my daughter...”

Wesker grunted, clenching his teeth as he forced himself not to express his anger further.

“No!” Eva denied out of the blue. “I don't have regenerative powers or whatever that means. I get cuts and bruises like anyone else!”

She pulled up a pant leg to reveal an old scar on the back of her lower leg. “See, I got that scar when I was riding my bike as a kid. There's nothing wrong with me! I'm not infected!”

Confused and frustrated, she turned on Wesker. “Umbrella infected me! Did you know about this?”

“I didn't know.”

“I swear, Dad, if you knew... You asshole. You were going to ruin the whole planet and leave me behind. Tell me the truth!”

His fists were closed very tight. “I didn't know Spencer would ever do something like that to a baby. I should have known better. I should have suspected something like this when I found out I was one of Spencer's guinea pigs.”

Agent Redfield slowly nodded understanding that was far beyond Noel's own.

“Project W or Wesker Project,” the agent said. “I remember reading documents on it a couple years ago. Only two survived the highly selective process.”

Wesker was clenching his teeth and his fists together now. “I would have killed him a lot sooner if I had known he was behind my wife's murder.”

This revelation also happened to be news to the agent. “You were married?”

A bit of anger left Wesker's features, expression softening while he thought of his late wife.

“Her name was Jane. I'm sorry I lied, Eva.” He made eye contact with his daughter. “I didn't want you to know your mother was murdered. I didn't want you to grow up damaged from it.”

“I didn't know you stopped being a researcher because you didn't agree with their plans for creating weapons,” Redfield said, appearing to be processing things in his head.

“I became disturbed when Spencer sought to obtain bio-weapons with a hundred percent kill rates. I didn't want to be part of a company trying to create something like that.”

Noel frowned at the man and pondered the information coming to them. He listened to his speech on the world needing saving from itself earlier that night. He heard him claim he would make the planet with a fresh start, wiping everything else out. What was all that talk?

What about his new virus? Why did it seem like there were two Weskers with vastly different personalities depending on his mood or company? Was crazy Wesker one big lie? An excuse to hurt people and pretend he wasn't unhappy or lost? Was he reading too much into matters he didn't have much in the way of evidence to get a satisfactory conclusion?

“There's another memo,” Dr. Patel said, shifting to the second piece of paper.

“Read it,” said Eva. “I want to hear it.”

Dr. Patel nodded and began reading.

_“Memo 2, 2004. E. Wesker subject at twelve years of age has not contracted any illnesses, even a common cold. Whether this is a result of the R-Virus is yet to be determined. Impossible to retrieve subject as former Umbrella employee A. Wesker has continued to monitor subject for protection. Although A. Wesker has dealt a crippling blow to Umbrella Corporation, Spencer has assured us that we are far from finished with our work. Will continue to make observations on E. Wesker subject from a distance.”_

Dr. Patel placed the sheets on the table. “It's all that's here.”

“Don't worry. They're not watching you anymore, Eva,” Agent Redfield assured. “Spencer's dead and Umbrella's finished.”

“I know... It's just not knowing I was being watched all those years...”

“Umbrella had me under surveillance for a long time too,” he shared, trying to make her feel better. “And I know- Unnh...”

“What?”

She turned to look and saw his head lowered, body hunched over a bit. Noel tracked his daughter's placement in the room before considering if he should move to help. What he could do, he didn't know.

The agent clutched his chest and Eva leaned in. “Chris, are you okay?”


	13. Reality Realized

The BSAA agent let out a sharp intake of breath, releasing frequent gasps of pain as he struggled to get through the sudden unbearable agony in his chest. That's what it looked like to Noel. Same as the past few times, only worse. He was afraid to think what was happening inside the man's body.

Eva came over to Redfield as his breathing normalized. His shoulders relaxed and he straightened from his hunched position. He stood staring at the floor and the teenager reached out a hand to place on his arm, concern filling her eyes. The agent noticed her presence for the first time and he slowly turned to her, head still hanging low.

Noel made sure his daughter was near. Agent Redfield was acting off and Eva knew something was wrong too.

“Chris?”

Without warning, he lashed out at her and locked his hands around her throat. Startled, Eva did nothing to defend herself and he began to squeeze tighter. Staring at her assailant in terrified confusion, her eyes bulged as she struggled to breathe. She pulled on his hands with little success.

Oh, wow. His eyes were red. They were glowing.

Wesker moved a step to stop the attack but Eva didn't need any help. She slipped a hand into a knife sheath attached to her belt and stabbed the blade into his upper thigh. The girl kneed him between the legs with such force he flew backward.

“Gahh!”

Redfield slammed into one of the cages on the right side of the room. He tumbled onto his side where he drew in sharp breaths. Relieved to have air, Eva greedily gulped the oxygen into her lungs. They must burn. A suspect tried to choke him out once. It wasn't pleasant.

The man dragged himself to his feet, visibly pale and exhausted. “I'm so sorry.”

She shook her head, replacing the knife in its case, justifying his actions. “This isn't your fault. You're not yourself.”

He lifted his hands and stared at them as if he couldn't believe what they had done. “Yeah... And soon I won't be myself anymore.”

“Don't say that! We'll find a way to fix you!” Claire exclaimed.

Agent Redfield didn't seem to believe her words and continued staring at his hands.

“Figures I'd run into you again, Albert,” a thickly accented voice spoke loudly.

The group turned to see none other than Excella standing at the top of the stairs. She had come through the door on the platform. A gaunt man wearing a heavy purple robe was entering behind her. He had a gold emblem on the front of his robe, a symbol of some sort, and carried a wooden staff. The staff was moving... It twisted with vine-like limbs around itself and the man held it close as he looked down upon all of them.

“Saddler,” Wesker said.

The man smirked, faded gray eyes lightening. “Not as dead as you presumed.”

His tone was smug and Excella stood beside him with a satisfied smile of her own. She descended the steps and stood at the bottom of the stairs, watching them.

“When I saw you prancing around with your new friends, I decided to make a new alliance. One I could be assured wouldn't fail me unlike you, Albert. Uroboros was our creation and you abandoned it like it meant nothing.”

“It means nothing.”

She scoffed. “What? Because your daughter disapproves? I thought you were above human weaknesses, Albert. It seems I was wrong. Doesn't matter. Saddler and I are going to carry out his plans of spreading Las Plagas across the globe. With it, he will have total control of everyone and the world will be a much greater place.”

“Do you really believe that, Excella? His world will turn everyone into mindless beings. He'll do the same to you!” declared Agent Redfield.

“I don't think so,” she told him snidely and put her adoring gaze on Saddler when the man spoke.

“I can feel them growing ever so strongly inside you.”

This put everyone's attention on Redfield, who was looking up at the man in bewilderment. Saddler stared in concentration as he lifted his left hand, holding it palm out toward the agent. Immediately, Redfield let out a tortured scream and clawed at his chest. Noel felt horrified imagining the parasite inside could be moving and crawling in him. The concept was more terrifying than those stories of people finding cockroaches in ears or tape worms in stomachs.

The agent dropped to his knees and struggled to control himself. He released pained grunts. A smile crossed Saddler's mouth at the scene.

“Perhaps you can resist. But you cannot disobey.”

He pinpointed it was possibly a Latin American accent.

Noel stiffened, alert. Redfield grew still following Saddler's words and was now moving to stand. Straightening, his eyes looked at Saddler. The red color was back and the robed man appeared satisfied he had achieved victory over the other. He beckoned him forward.

“Now, come to me.”

“No... Chris!” Sheva uttered.

He didn't seem to hear, obediently walking to Saddler. He stood next to the stranger with a detached, emotionless demeanor. Saddler noted the gun in his thigh holster and a smile spread on his face as an idea clearly formed.

Saddler pointed at Excella. “Take your gun and shoot her with it.”

“What?” the woman gasped, astonished by his betrayal. “Saddler, you promised!”

“I'm sorry dear, but you simply aren't one of us. You are an outsider who doesn't belong,” he stated coldly. “Shoot her.”

Agent Redfield reached numbly to his holster and withdrew the gun. He pointed it at Excella, who was growing increasingly frightened. Noel shifted forward a few steps. They had to do something, didn't they? No one else moved.

The agent shot her in the chest and with a cry of pain, Excella crumpled to the floor. She didn't move and a blood pool began to expand beneath her. Pleased, Saddler gave him further instruction.

“Let's see... Kill the blonde girl right there. She reminds me of that president's daughter, my previous failure.”

He spoke the last part bitter but it all came out clear. Saddler wanted his new puppet to kill Eva. He settled his hand on his gun. They had to do something!

“Chris, no,” Eva tried, stepping closer inside of farther away. “Please stop.”

Redfield stared blankly for a moment and then aimed the weapon at her. Wesker quickly moved to stand in front of his daughter and stared the rogue agent in the eye.

“Chris, this isn't you. Wake up.”

He stared at Wesker, nothing registering on his face. But his outstretched hand gripping the gun began to tremble. The man drew in a sharp intake of breath and clenched his teeth, fighting against Saddler's control.

“I said shoot her,” Saddler commanded.

“No!”

He dropped the gun and fell, writhing in pain on the floor. It must be painful and scary to struggle for control over his body. Saddler made an annoyed sound and wasted no time in making his exit from the room.

The female BSAA agent knelt beside Redfield, who continued to writhe on the floor.

“Oh God... We have to help him.”

He lurched upward and latched his hands around her throat and she let out a gasp. The agent released her when he regained control of himself. The gain was momentary, and he clawed at his chest in pain.

“Hold him down,” Wesker ordered, walking to them.

Sheva backed off as he moved to do as Wesker asked. Nathan came to help and together they struggled to hold him to the floor, gripping his arms. Steven grabbed his legs when one of them nearly knocked him aside. An odd, inhuman hiss escaped Redfield.

Wesker lowered himself to his knees. He was watching the agent's chest. Without warning, he reached down and ripped his shirt apart.

“What the hell is that?” Steven asked in horrified disgust as he saw a lump moving beneath the skin.

Nobody unnecessarily answered. It had to be the parasite. Wesker traced a hand along the bared chest, following the parasite's movements. If this thing could control a person, wouldn't that mean it attached to the brain stem? What made it detach? Could be it didn't get a real hold on the control center of the human host yet and was scurrying around blind. Ugh. So gross.

When the lump drew close to the heart, Wesker put pressure on the spot and it retreated farther to the right. He forced it to move toward the arm. Noel adjusted his grip as Redfield started struggling harder against the thing moving inside him. His eyes remained red but it sounded like it was him when he yelled for Wesker to just kill him. The request was ignored and the man manipulating the parasite got what he wanted.

As soon as the lump moved into the left shoulder, Wesker brandished a knife and dug into the flesh of the shoulder. Noel winced and Redfield howled in pain as he made a small, deep cut. He proceeded to reach in with his fingers to yank out a hideous bug looking creature. Oh that wasn't very sanitary.

Wesker dropped the parasite to the ground and crushed it beneath his boot. The red was fading from the agent's eyes and his usual color returned. His breathing slowing, he fainted.

Worried, Eva peered down at the passed out man. “Is he going to be okay?”

“The parasite's gone and the cut is superficial,” Wesker assured.

Sheva came over, removing her backpack. “It's a good thing I have a spare shirt here. Thought it might be handy if we needed to stop any bleeding. It should fit him.”

The agent had a few simple medical supplies as well which Dr. Patel used for cleaning the wound and taping a patch on it. He cleaned the leg wound and wrapped bandage around it as well. They removed what was left of his old shirt and decided to wait for him to wake so he could dress himself. Eva sat next to the unmoving form while he slept, but that was as far as she got before a sniveling voice interrupted their moment of calm.

“Ooh what a tragedy! Is the eldest Redfield sibling dead?” came the eerily feminine voice he recognized from that sniper.

“No, he's not dead. Ruin your day?” Eva asked him as she sprang to her feet.

Alfred Ashford merely let out a creepy laugh. “On the contrary, Alexia would much rather bear witness to his demise.”

“Chris!”

The owner of the voice belonged to a woman standing in the doorway Alfred entered through. She came into the room. It was Agent Redfield's sister, Claire. Was it the real one?

Alfred pulled a handgun from his jacket and pointed it at her, a cruel smile playing across his face.

“There you are! Alexia and I were oh so concerned when you disappeared,” he informed her. “You're just in time to die with the others.”

Wesker stared at the deranged twin in amusement. “You're going to kill all of us by yourself? I fail to see the advantage you have.”

“All by myself? No. The sweepers will be more than helpful in dispatching the rest of you.”

He swept a hand vaguely in front. It took them a moment to see what he was referring to. Without making a sound, six creatures had come through the open door the group came earlier. They must have managed to do that while they were distracted.

These slimy reptile-like creatures looked like the ones named hunters. The previous creatures they encountered in the mansion didn't give off a purple hue, however, and these ones were apparently called sweepers. Noel wasn't happy with the bucketful of monsters getting thrown at them on a near constant basis tonight.

“Not cool,” Eva muttered, inadvertently voicing his sentiment.

“Do not fear,” Wesker said to her. “Take care of Ashford.”

Eva didn't question him and nodded to show she understood. The rest of the group were eyeing the sweepers and Lucas appeared to be itching to run for it before they attacked. Eva started edging to the right of the room and one of the sweepers followed her movement with its beady eyes. When it started to shift toward her, the sweeper immediately stopped its motion when Wesker stared the creature in the eyes. The others watched in disbelief as one by one, the sweepers turned and exited the room the way they had come without incident.

“What the-? Come back here! Kill them!” Alfred shrieked in anger.

Meanwhile, Eva continued edging closer to Alfred on the far right without drawing his attention. His eyes were focused on Wesker as he revealed why his monsters abandoned the other.

“Predators can sense when there is a stronger predator.” Wesker smiled, smug. “I thought you were supposed to be gifted. Forgetting an easy biological fact like that...”

He shook his head in mock sympathy. Alfred took notice of Eva only after she vaulted the railing and landed on the landing to his left. She ran for him and ducked as he pointed his weapon in her direction, striking him in the shin with a swift kick.

“Mistake,” Eva told Alfred as he tried to point his gun at her.

The girl grabbed onto the railing and pushed off it, kneeing him in the face. He hit the floor, blood spewing out of his nose. After kicking the gun from his hand, she added to the first part of her remark, saying, “Yours.”

Wesker beamed like any proud father. “Well done, Eva.”

She turned to him, a slight smile growing. It didn't last when Redfield's sister shouted warning.

“Look out!”

Completely unprepared for him to have a taser in his pocket, Eva cried out when he jabbed the weapon into her leg. Electricity coursed through her body and stopped when Claire jumped Alfred, grappling for the taser. Their enemy threw an elbow back into her face and the young woman fell to the ground.

Eva was bent over, face contorted in pain as she tried to recover from the electric shock. She glanced up to find Alfred heading for Claire, who was stumbling back to gain distance. With a cry of fury, Eva slammed herself into Alfred and the two went tumbling over the railing. They dropped the few feet and hit the ground hard.

Noel readied his gun and waited to use it if there was an opening.

Eva gasped in pain and she clutched her left arm to her body. Alfred shook out of his daze and tried to grab at the hurt girl. Wesker seemed to have enough of watching too. He strode over to Alfred, reached down, and snapped his neck in one swift motion. Ignoring the dead man, he turned to his daughter and helped her stand.

“I think my arm's broken.”

Wesker examined her claim and rectified her diagnosis. “Possibly a near break.”

Searching the ground, he picked up the ruined shirt and made a makeshift sling for her arm.

“This will have to do for now.”

Noel put his gun away and looked to the agent's sister. She was descending the stairs with Alfred's gun held loose by her side. Giving Eva a weak smile, she thanked her for the help.

Claire went to her brother's unconscious body. She placed a hand on the patched up shoulder wound gently. Bringing the hand to his face then, she sighed.

“Oh, Chris...”


	14. The Ambition of Sin

Damn. His body hurt. He groaned at the soreness he was feeling in his general midsection. He opened his eyes, exhausted. A stinging pain had him peering to his shoulder which he realized was patched up.

The next thing he became aware of was his sister leaning into his face. She wore a big, dopey grin. He would laugh at her but then she punched him in his very not having it stomach. The hit was light, but he winced anyway.

“Don't scare me like that! You're not supposed to get hurt, understood?”

“Ow...” he complained, bringing a hand to the spot and not on board with her playfulness. “Sheesh, Sis. Aren't you supposed to go easy on the injured guy?”

Before she could get a reply in, Chris realized who he was talking to and bolted upright.

“Claire! You're okay! Wait, where's Alexia? Or Alfred?”

“Whoa, take it easy. I'm not sure where Alexia is. I managed to get away from them in the mansion when you guys distracted her. And Alfred is dead.”

His eyes were drawn to the stairs and landing. “Dead and disappearing... Am I losing my mind or do you guys see that too?”

Alfred's body was disappearing. Claire gasped in surprise as the gun in her hand vanished into thin air as well. Soon the crazy twin's body was gone, not a trace of him left.

“Well that's weird,” he said, getting to his feet.

Noticing the clean shirt Sheva held in her hands, he crouched to be level with her face. “That's for me I hope.”

“So... Was he another one of those images or something like that?” Jones suggested, coming to stand near him while he tugged his head and arms through the shirt. “He wasn't see-through like the others, but he was a lot like the monsters we've seen.”

“Could have been. He interacted with us. I touched him,” Eva said. “He has to be real somehow.”

Agent Anderson looked over. “We thought the zombie was just a very realistic recreation, cause you and him told us it was, and my agent died for it.”

“Let's not start blaming each other,” Nathan suggested.

“I'm not blaming. I'm saying it's the BSAA's fault my team is dead and I'll be coming after the organization when all of this is through.”

Claire glared, crossing her arms on her chest. “This isn't the time to bicker. We should-”

“Ten years ago Alfred Ashford died,” Chris interrupted, wanting to get on with this shit. “Unless Alexia created a way to bring her brother back to life, he was dead. She seemed pretty dead to me back then too.”

The FBI agent was insistent on his belligerent turn. “What's your point?”

Claire, Jones's Claire, huffed and shook her head rapidly. “Stop it. We need to get ourselves through this and get out of here before we bother wasting our energy on anything else.”

 _Smart girl_ , he thought, looking at her with an approving smile.

“Maybe it was this Sin character,” Lucas offered.

All eyes shifted to him. Lucas stood near the doorway. Undaunted by all the attention focused on him, he straightened his posture. He looked to Chris, who had taken the role of leading their group.

“This Sin guy claims all the places we've been and all the places we go were put here by him. He also claims to be actual Sin. Now I'm not religious and I'm calling BS on the whole embodiment of sin claim. But we did see he could look like someone else. He can look like someone he hasn't ever seen. He claims he learns the person's memories when he takes their form. We feel like we're seeing these rooms and situations, but are they real?”

“There has to be some kind of mind-reading element. And he can either truly change his genetic make-up or he has a hell of an illusion trick. Somebody could have cooked this guy up in a laboratory and is playing a sick the psychopath on their enemies game.”

“People are dead,” Anderson argued, sullen. “Trained agents and soldiers, dead.”

So he did remember Chris lost people too. He lost good men and he lost Jill. This couldn't all be a massive lie. They were in reality. It just wasn't the correct one.

“If this guy gets into our heads, it wouldn't take much for him to learn our biggest fears.”

Steven snorted. “What are you even talking about? I think I'm seriously more confused than before.”

“That's nothing new.”

“Shut your mouth, Nathan. You don't get what's happening either!”

He met his sister's puzzled gaze, feeling it lingering on him. “This can't all be real, right Chris?”

“Are you suggesting I am not real?”

Saddler was again standing on the higher landing. He stood at the top of the stairs. Looking down upon them with great contempt, he gave his attention to him. He rubbed his shoulder, instantly annoyed to see the reason he could have lost his body and died.

“Pity you failed to embrace such a wondrous gift. The power you could have wielded would have been marvelous to behold.”

“Yeah, at the cost of free will. I'm not giving that up anytime soon.”

As always, Saddler seemed to find something amusing. “The naivety of outsiders is beyond me. Perhaps I must show you the error of your ways...”

“You're not real,” Claire informed Saddler, standing firm and unafraid three feet from the robed man. “You got killed by Leon so there's no way you're here.”

What was she doing? He didn't like how close she was to him. He moved forward to stand next to her so she wasn't alone. He'd be ready if he got any ideas about hurting his sister or anyone else for that matter.

Saddler raised an eyebrow at her. “And yet here I stand before you. Next time the American agent should make sure to do his job better.”

Claire's eyes narrowed. “Leon makes sure he gets the job done. If he fought and killed you, then you're dead.”

“Such faith in him. You should use that faith toward something more beneficial,” Saddler droned on. “My religious community is currently lacking in members. You would do well to join and embrace the power Las Plagas has to offer.”

“I don't think so.”

“There isn't much sense in joining a man who is dead,” said Wesker.

“Yeah, cause you don't exist,” Eva reminded.

Chris caught on to what they were working to accomplish and joined in.

“Saddler, you're not real. It's impossible for you to be here just as it was impossible for Alfred Ashford to be here. He disappeared when he died because he was never really here to begin with. So you know what I think?”

Saddler appeared quite entertained by his musings. “Please, do tell.”

“I think you should disappear.”

The amusement vanished at those words. “Silence. I will hear no more of this.”

“You heard him, Saddler! You don't exist! Scram!” Claire called out.

He was shifting his stance in great discomfort. “Be quiet.”

His order went unheard as Eva began to say he wasn't real over and over. The entire group was staring at him now, and their looks were ones of disbelief in his existence. He began to appear hollow, the wall behind him visible intermittently. The staff in his right hand vanished and he stared at the space where it had been.

“No...” he uttered, refusing to believe they were right.

Lifting his eyes toward them one last time, he muttered, “No...”

It was like he blinked out of existence in an instant. There was an aura of victory in the room. That is, there was until Claire audibly released the breath she was holding in her lungs and expressed her stress.

“Phew, I'm glad that actually worked. I have faith in Leon, but I've seen things come back to life before.”

Chris glanced sideways at Wesker. “Yeah, funny how that happens sometimes.”

They waited a few minutes after Saddler disappeared to make sure he would stay gone. While they waited, Eva explained a theory that Sin was making these old enemies of theirs appear to mess with them. How anyone could have that kind of power was above his pay grade. He dealt with problems; he didn't get overly concerned with uncovering the working.

Claire leaned into her father. “I mean... They were so real. They could touch and hurt us.”

 “Too bad we didn't think of using the power of belief to get rid of an asshole sooner,” Eva said, looking at the arm she had in a sling. “Wow. That sounds really stupid.”

“I'm not sure it will work on just anyone,” Chris murmured, considering. “Sin could be responsible, making us think we have a win. Let's count on our own abilities foremost.”

Most monsters they ran into couldn't reason, whether they wanted to wish them away or not. He was pretty sure against anyone especially dangerous, he wouldn't want to stand around again like this shouting to make them go away. He trusted what he could see and hear above anything else. He'd rely on his training before relying on willing somebody to disappear.

“I get the impression none of this is gonna make sense,” Lucas said, frowning. “What are you doing, Umbrella?”

“I still don't understand how I got infected with Las Plagas,” he pondered, hearing the shady man's mention of a ruined company, but wrapped up in his own thinking to pay mind to it. “I don't remember getting injected.”

“When one is unconscious, they tend to be fairly unaware of most things. I injected the parasite into your neck then. You never suspected anything happened.”

Chris turned fast, staring at Wesker standing by a cage as he had been since he woke. He turned completely around to look at the door they entered through when they first came here. In front of this door was Wesker. There were two Weskers.

Wesker by the entrance was the one who spoke. He just knew. That Wesker was an impostor.

“You injected me?” he exclaimed, angered.

“Correct,” the Wesker copy said. “The parasite infected townsman knocked you out for a matter of minutes. While your team was busy fending off the hoards, I slipped right by their defenses and infected you.”

He seemed proud of this accomplishment and smiled at Chris. It was Wesker's smile and Wesker's face and it easily infuriated him further.

“What for?” he demanded.

The Wesker copy, no, Sin. Sin shrugged his shoulders, smile leaving his face. He answered in earnest.

“To have a little fun at your expense. Why else choose the weakest form of the parasite? It was rather hilarious watching these people wonder if they would need to take your life or not. The fear in them was palpable and exciting. You didn't disappoint, Christopher. You fought the parasite with all your strength, refusing to give in to the urge to kill your friends. Impressive I must say.”

“You sick freak!” Claire yelled.

“I'm sin in the flesh, my dear. What were you expecting? For me to do good? A laughable concept.”

His sister fumed with barely restrained anger. Chris was not able to restrain himself. He gave in to his temper and walked directly to the enemy. He drew his weapon and pointed the handgun straight at the eyes shaded by sunglasses.

Sin waited patiently for him to do something more. When he didn't, disappointment crept across his features.

“Go on. Pull the trigger. It should be easy when I wear the face of a man you hate.”

Chris's jaw tightened. He clenched the gun, finger skimming the trigger with light force, but not even close to what it would take to fire the weapon. Sin didn't seem surprised, giving him a critical look.

“You can't do it, can you? Men like you need a reason to kill.”

“I have plenty of reasons,” he snarled, angry at his inability to shoot the man, or whatever he was.

Sin infected him with a dangerous parasite. He brought them to the mansion where his fellow BSAA members were killed one by one. Several federal agents died. This guy recreated enemies who wanted to kill them. He was the definition of someone he wanted to shoot, especially when he wore Wesker's smug face. But he also knew he couldn't do it in cold blood and Sin was calling his bluff.

“And yet you still fail to act,” he pointed out. “Do you know what your sin is, Christopher?”

He lowered his weapon, knowing he wasn't going to use it. “No, but I'm sure you're going to tell me.”

Sin ignored the contempt in which Chris thickly coated the words and said, “You lie to yourself until you believe whatever you need to get the job done. Take my good friend Albert here...”

“I'm no friend of yours.”

Their enemy pretended not to have heard the other man, but did alter his words accordingly.

“Take Albert here... You convince yourself Albert is no different than the other monsters you've had to eliminate. You tell yourself he's someone, or rather, _something_ that needs to be put down. But as you tell yourself this, you know it to be untrue. You have seen his humanity reveal itself again and again.

“Even _you_ couldn't have failed to notice how he lets you live at each encounter. Or how he took so long with his plans of world domination and orchestrated a leak so that a certain organization known as the BSAA would come investigating. He made it _so_ painstakingly obvious he was waiting for you to stop him, Christopher. Even Albert isn't enough of a bastard to allow the entire world to suffer...”

“Enough talk,” the true Wesker interceded. “I would have completed my plans if he didn't succeed in stopping me.”

“Hmm, not in such a good mood to chat are we? No surprise there,” Sin derived. “Then we'll get right to business, although business is always pleasure for me.”

“Get to the point,” Wesker said harshly.

“There is no point. I want you to die. All of you. And die you shall. None of you will make it out of here alive because my next trick, is a real..killer.”

He chuckled at his own cleverness as he started backing away. Quickly departing the way he came, Chris started to run after him but halted in his tracks. Sin in Wesker's form could move as fast as Wesker. He wouldn't be catching up easy, and he had people he felt responsible for preventing him from leaving them behind.

“What do you think he meant by that?” Nathan asked.

“I don't know,” Chris replied, turning back to the others. “I doubt it will take us long to find out.”

He regretted his words when the room itself began to bend and warp. The group looked around in alarm as the walls of the room extended and morphed. The musty, uneven stone floor became smooth marble, and in the center a red carpet. Stairs added to the pair of steps leading to the small landing, and each step was covered in red carpet. The old metal banisters were replaced with sleek wooden ones. Walls pushed back, making the room larger.

They watched in amazement when they found the room changed into the foyer of the Ashford manor. This was the large area where they ran into Alexia and Claire. They weren't in Antarctica, were they? Chris wondered if he could be in Africa yet. It could be he never left.

Heavy footsteps resounded throughout the room and a tall broad-shouldered man stomped out from behind the staircase. Calling this thing a man was perhaps too kind. It wore black pants, a black overcoat, black boots, and black gloves, but the exposed head and neck wasn't normal. Its skin was a pasty white color, skin around its lips gone, exposing muscle and teeth. It made it appear to have a permanent grin.

Skin was sewn crudely over its right eye, large stitching. It only had sight with its left eye. The thing was ghastly to behold and presented clear danger, for there was a rocket launcher mounted on its left arm. The humanoid monster paused when it reached Claire and her dad, who happened to be nearest the spot it emerged. It stared at the two civilians as if trying to comprehend something. They stared back nervously, too afraid to make any sudden movements.

“What is that..thing?” Agent Anderson asked in a loud whisper.

His volume remained plenty loud for the whole room to hear. Wesker responded and he should. He was the former Umbrella researcher in the room.

“That is a modified version of the original Tyrant model. Umbrella infected it with a parasitic organism designed to increase intelligence. Before deployment, they are programmed with instructions.”

“It's not much different than the tyrant we fought from the mansion lab, right?” Chris questioned.

“This one is capable of simple thought processes unlike the other. It can evaluate and make decisions based on its commands. They named it Nemesis.”

“Nemesis?” he just about exclaimed, recalling the thing he had in fact heard about. “Isn't it the monster that stalked Jill in Raccoon City and killed Brad?”

“Yes. Nemesis would have been a success too, but of course Umbrella wasn't satisfied and continued experimenting to create something better.”

Jones glanced up at the big creature and then looked to Wesker. “So... What is it doing?”

“It's assessing your threat level. As long as no one draws their weapons it should leave us alone.”

Getting the hint from a sharp look Wesker sent his way, Jones withdrew his hand and kept it at his side. Nemesis was turning away from them, disinterested. The creature took a few steps and halted, rotating toward Chris's direction.

“Sstaarrss...” Nemesis said, the word nearly masked by the growl emitted along with it.

His eyes widened as the creature locked onto his form. Wesker raised his eyebrows, comprehension dawning.

“It seems this is the exact Nemesis from Raccoon City,” he said. “Which means the tyrant is programmed to kill enemies of Umbrella, specifically STARS members.”

“Not a STARS member anymore...” Chris tried, hopelessly wishing to prevent the inevitable violent engagement. “Good Nemesis...”

“Sstaaarrrsss...”


	15. Departed Enemies

It was just his luck he had to deal with something like Nemesis. _Jill, you're incredible to handle this freak like you did._ Were. Right. _I wish you were here..._

The creature hoisted the rocket launcher onto its shoulder and aimed.

“Oh shit!”

Chris dove to the side, landing on the stairs as a shell from the launcher smashed into one of the columns supporting the second floor. Marble exploded into millions of fragments and several large chunks collapsed to the floor below. The entire right side of the second level was ruined.

He pulled himself to his feet. Nemesis was shifting, searching to find its target. It began to bring the rocket launcher up on its shoulder again but suddenly the weapon was no longer in its grasp. Momentarily confused, it stood there, brain power apparently assessing the new development. The creature was having difficulty fathoming the idea someone could take the weapon from it.

Wesker hit the ground a few feet away a little rough. He dropped the launcher, rubbing his shoulder and flexing the arm attached. His abilities off like that, the extra dosage of serum must still be affecting him. He wasn't sorry. The guy deserved worse.

“You have got to be kidding me!”

The agent looked to his sister and where she was staring. At the double doors leading into the foyer, behind her and most of the group was another threat. A bald man with a dark, gaunt face, wearing a black coat, boots, and gloves. Void of expression, he stood by the doors, surveying the room and its occupants. When his eyes passed over Claire, they stayed there and she stared back in mute horror.

“Looks like Mr. X came crawling out of Raccoon City too!” she declared, starting to sound more irritated and less disbelieving.

Those who had weapons drew them. Chris counted four guns. Agent Anderson, Sheva, Jones, and Eva. Wesker was down on one knee for who knew what reason, and Lucas held a knife. Wisely, he kept the knife partially hidden by his side for the time being. It wouldn't be much use without a suicidal attack, and the longer he kept himself off Nemesis's radar, the better for him.

“That's one tall man,” Nathan commented, staring.

Claire disagreed. “That isn't a man. That's a tyrant.”

Steven squinted at it. “Yeah?”

“Trust me, if that coat comes off, he is one ugly freak.”

“So you've encountered him before?” Sheva questioned, watching Mr. X cautiously.

“Yeah, and he is tough to kill. I really wish I had a gun.”

He could give her his handgun and keep the magnum for himself. Except doing that would draw all dangerous eyes on them both. The thought fell away when Mr. X started moving. He was going for Claire!

She didn't get to do much more than look before she was thrown bodily to the floor. The large man blundered past and couldn't stop its momentum. It rammed into the far wall shoulder-first.

“Sstaarrss...”

The other monster in the room decided it was fine minus the projectile-firing weaponry. It was looking at him, beginning to step forward. Chris backed up the staircase, wanting to lure it farther away from the others. It would be much easier if he could freely run around without worrying about protecting civilians.

Didn't matter. He could do this. Did it have trouble with stairs? Nope!

He took off running, pursued by the imposing creature coming at a dead run up the stairs. Reaching the top, he turned left, the only direction available. Below, the more defenseless of their group were trying to make themselves small behind the fresh rubble. Anderson and Sheva were shooting at Mr. X, who'd pulled itself out of the wall and stomped toward them.

Mr. X dashed across the floor, targeting the pair of shooters. When they saw their bullets were doing nothing to halt his progression, they dispersed to get out of its range. Steven squeaked out a terrified whimper when Mr. X brought his dash to an abrupt halt, right in front of him. He hadn't had opportunity nor the room to hide with the others.

A thick arm slammed into his chest, tossing him against the set of doors nearby. His head hit one of the wood doors with an audible smack and he sank limply to the floor. His brother ran to him the second the tyrant lost interest and sought another target.

Goddamn Umbrella. Nemesis was distracted by all the commotion downstairs. He was frozen several yards away from him, scanning the area below. Chris checked on the teenagers.

Claire was barricaded behind a large chunk of rubble by her father, who had his gun out and raised. He had yet to fire but it was probable he waited to avoid bringing unnecessary attention. Eva had quite the opposite method of dealing with the situation. She fired off a round at Mr. X and then fired a round at Nemesis.

Oh, they didn't like that. They were completely unaffected, but they didn't like it. Nemesis jumped down, weight cracking and breaking the floor beneath its boots. Mr. X slowly turned around to face her.

She shot it in the chest. It didn't so much as wince. Sheva and Anderson started shooting again, hoping to keep two tyrants from attacking her at once.

These guys were bullet sponges. They needed something stronger. Chris brought his fully loaded magnum out. It worked on Tyrant in the lab all those years ago. It worked on Alexia's tyrant form. Temporarily. Maybe temporary was all they would need.

He leaned over the railing and aimed for Nemesis. The creature was descending the last flight of stairs at a slow lumber. Chris fired once, nailing it in the head. It swiveled, one-eyed, searching for its attacker. He fired two more times. He put one more bullet in the head and the other in the chest on its way down.

The BSAA agent reloaded so he would have a full gun handy, hoping he hit the heart. The freakier mutated creatures seemed to have a big, pulsing heart as their weak point. He couldn't see this one's with the coat on, so he had to pray his aim was accurate. It had fallen motionless in any case.

Wesker launched an end table at Mr. X from the balcony where he now stood. When did he get up there? The creature roared in anger after the furniture cracked him upside the head. It hadn't done a fraction of damage but the tyrant didn't seem to enjoy having things flung at it. Which was probably the point.

The remaining Tyrant on its feet broke into a run, heading for the stairs to get to the second level where its attacker hovered. Chris was standing between it and Wesker. He tried not to hate, reasoning the man was protecting his daughter.

Dr. Patel helped Nathan get Steven over to the rest of them. Mr. X was turning the corner close by and definitely saw the “obstacle” in the way of his primary target. He lowered his shoulder as he ran, preparing to ram him. Wesker hopped off the balcony to the first floor. Wesker was such a dick.

He didn't have anywhere to go so he fired the rounds in the magnum. The force of the repeated shots from his powerful revolver caused the creature to stumble, but it wasn't enough. He reloaded the magnum with a single bullet this time. It was all he had left for the gun.

Chris ran forward to pass him, it. He was clotheslined with a thick arm on the way. The stretch of the limb came a bit late to knock him flat. To his misfortune, there was plenty of driving strength in it to spin him right. Right over the railing.

“Oof.”

He uttered that sound twice. The second utterance happened when he collided with a solid body just before he would with the floor. Rolling off and to his back, he was winded and useless for a minute. No rest for him, apparently, a hand gripping a utility strap and tugging him across the ground.

Tired of getting manhandled when the hand adjusted to give him a shove, he got the blatant hint and pushed to stand. Wesker met his glance. He jerked his chin to something in front of them. Looking, Chris saw the tyrant followed him down and was turning to see them.

Too close, the sound of Nemesis getting up reached their ears. If he targeted them as former STARS members, they would be trapped between two seven foot tall abominations. Wesker abandoned him in a flash.

No, wait. He was going for the rocket launcher. The agent walked backward slow, watching the two threats predictably move in his direction. He backed into the wall. He might be in a bad spot, but the others were localized ideally for the forthcoming explosion.

Nemesis broke into a sudden run and he was super close. Chris didn't rely on Wesker to make sure he was clear. He ran for the corner by the stairs. It would trap him entirely if the shot missed but he didn't have any other option.

The hideous tyrant rounded sharply to chase him and bumped into the wall when Mr. X rammed him by accident. Wesker fired as the latter monster oriented itself to move for him again. It missed X and struck Nemesis straight on.

A howl of misery tore from Nemesis's throat as the missile exploded him into bits. He grimaced, continuing to survey the aftermath of the explosion. Chunks of debris rained down on Nemesis pieces and the bent form of X.

“Well that was charming,” he remarked.

_One to go._

“Chris! I need your help!”

He sought the source of the plea for help. On the other side of the room, Sheva was clutching her side and facing the wall. Something wiggling and sweeping across the floor rapidly approached her position. He swapped the magnum for his handgun and put a couple bullets in the unknown threat.

Whatever it was retracted and disappeared through a hole it must have made in the wall. The hole was very close to the area meant to secure the noncombatants. He considered how to handle moving them.

The wall to his left exploded in a shower of debris.

Wesker seemed aware of what it was because he was already moving. A huge vine burst through the wall, speeding toward Wesker in motion. The man jumped over the vine and dodged a second, more narrow one. A third bashed through the wall, distracting. It allowed the second to twirl and spiral into his chest.

“Dad!” Eva shrieked in horror.

The thick vine swung around, throwing Wesker against the railing which broke on impact. He laid on the staircase in a growing pool of blood, unmoving, and Eva hurried to him in tears. Chris monitored the vines and the group began spreading out to avoid sweeping attacks. There were so many on either side that the walls were breaking apart.

Claire was by the wall far from him and he worried for her safety. He shouted for Sheva to get her out of harm's way as he backed into a more secure location. Jones ran for the front entrance with his daughter in tow. Agent Anderson accompanied them before turning back, gun held steady.

Sheva and Claire crossed the hazardous ground and reached him. He thought about saying something to them but then they noticed movement to their right. From beneath a particularly large and heavy piece of rubble, Mr. X emerged.

He didn't resemble a man anymore. His coat had been lost during an unseen mutation. His true form showed. In place of hands he had huge claws, a foot or two in length. On the right side of his chest was a huge beating mound of red muscle, a beating heart.

Surprisingly, the tyrant focused on the gigantic vines currently creating havoc in the manor's foyer. It determined the greater threat perhaps, or the most obtrusive thing existing. The vines responded to the attack by attacking in defense. Multiple vines wrapped around its body and pounded the creature into the floor until there was nothing but a gory mess.

Huh. Okay. The vines retreated and disappeared through the gaps created in the wall. It wasn't because they were too damaged so why...?

“Ah ha ha ha ha ha...”

A familiar, cruel laugh echoed throughout the room. Alexia dropped down from the second floor balcony and stood before them. She was in her transformed state, skin stone-like and eyes a gold-yellow. Chris knew Alexia would kill them unless he thought fast. As he remembered the last time he encountered her, a plan formulated in his mind.

_She wasn't real. She wasn't real._

Chris defeated the real Alexia ten years ago. This wasn't her. None of the things they encountered could be here now. He had to remember that from now on. Filled with renewed determination, the BSAA agent turned to Sheva and Claire to share his plan. His sister ran to tell Eva.

“Alexia!” he shouted, stepping away from the stairs and grabbing her attention. “Looks like your precious vines missed me!”

The prideful woman fixated her eyes on him and a mirthful smile crept across her stone face. “So eager to die... Then I will grant your request and end your meaningless life.”

She walked closer, lifting her arm to unleash her fire attack. Alexia halted her procession when a gun pressed to the side of her head. The woman turned to see a young blonde girl with an arm out of commission had silently come up behind her. A novice mistake and the prideful Ashford looked absolutely furious it occurred.

Eva fired her father's magnum, saving them from experiencing Alexia's rage. She collapsed to the carpet in a heap. Unloading the clip into the tyrant's face and chest, she stopped only when the body began disappearing.

“Mistake,” Eva mumbled. “Yours.”

Alexia's body disappeared entirely and with her disappearance, the Ashford manor faded as well. Soon they were all in an open field with flat grass. Peering around, Chris realized where they were. He tried to see if there was any rippling or transparency to reveal they could be in another location of Sin's making. He was never able to differentiate reality from illusion under the bizarre circumstances he found himself trapped in.

“We're in a place I recognize. I was sent to this area on a mission with Sheva. It could be over.”


	16. Deceptive Illusions

In the aftermath of the brutal attack by Alexia and the enhanced tyrants, the group gathered themselves together in the grassy field. The grass was yellowing and hadn't been receiving a sufficient amount of water in the African flatland, but it provided a soft bed for the injured and tired to rest.

Steven was still unconscious, a sizable bump swelling on his forehead. They stemmed the blood flowing from his nose and wrapped a broken ankle. The ankle was twisted funny when they saw the damage and was now discolored and swollen pretty badly. His brother and Dr. Patel sat with him.

He didn't know the extent of Wesker's injuries. Quiet, he sat beside his daughter, hand on the gaping wound the vine put in him. It bled slow, in the process of healing he assumed. Eva was glued to his side in concern, her own arm in that sling. He had a few stinging injuries himself. Nothing he couldn't power through until the mission was officially concluded and he would undergo a mandatory medical evaluation.

Every now and then one of the members of the group would look over at him, waiting to see if he was going to tell them what they should do next. Anderson kept frowning at the bandaged spot on his arm where a bullet clipped him before staring ahead. Claire was frightened, holding her dad's arm with both hands and wanting to know when they would go home. The teenager was probably as tired of this mess as the rest of them.

The likelihood this area might be enemy territory was high. Wesker had plenty of infected humans roaming around when he and Sheva initially arrived in Kijuju. It looked like they were near the town, if not in it anymore. They were firmly in Sin's sphere of influence, that much he was positive on.

“We could try to find some working vehicles and get to a hospital,” Chris suggested after they had enough time to rest.

His partner approached and put her hand on his shoulder. “It's a good idea to get them to safety. But Chris, before we leave we need to find Uroboros.”

He shifted to look at her and her hand fell away. “Why do we need to find Uroboros?”

“To destroy it of course.”

Hm. They should destroy all traces of the lethal virus or be able to report its exact location. He didn't like having civilians in his care for that. It wouldn't be fair to them putting their lives on the line. The whole world's safety did take priority.

“Where's Uroboros, Wesker?”

The man drummed his fingers on his thigh. He seemed to be thinking, calculative mind working. Chris wouldn't be surprised if he was deciding whether or not revealing information would benefit him in any way. He must have determined it wouldn't be beneficial to tell for his lips tightened and he said nothing.

Okay. Now he was getting cranky.

“Wesker.”

He stood, facing his long-time enemy head on with growing frustration. His own fingers hovered over a certain gun he was carrying. The magnum loaded with one bullet. A shot to the heart should kill even someone like him. He hoped for the other to give him a reason to shoot.

Did he sense the intent? As a BSAA agent, he was within his rights to kill as necessary. Did it bother his child was sitting right next to him and he wouldn't be able to kill a father like that in a million years? Yes. Goddamn Wesker...

“Uroboros will never be released into the atmosphere. You have my word.”

He continued to stare, trying to figure out what was going on in Wesker's head. Doubt nagged him, regardless of wanting to believe he could be good. He had a daughter he seemed to love. He might have been a few hours away from releasing a deadly contagion into the world.

Chris relaxed his hand, letting go of the weapon. He would tolerate their arrangement for now. His guard would remain up. He wasn't trusting him. He wouldn't be betrayed by the same man a second time.

Eva caught his eye and smiled. He looked away. He did not know what to do about knowing she existed.

“He always keeps his promises,” the problematic girl said. “After this is done, he's going to keep his promise to me too.”

He opened his mouth to ask what promise Wesker was supposed to keep but their unconscious friend woke abruptly.

“Wha-? Eh? Oi!”

Nathan pushed his brother back down and he continued lying there but wasn't finished talking.

“What's going on? Is this grass? Where are we? Is this heaven and I died? Like, _Heaven_ , Heaven?”

“No, you idiot. You bumped your head and we had to lug your ass here.”

“Oh.” Steven tapped a finger to the bump on his forehead and winced. “Owie.”

“What are you? Seven?”

“What are you? An asshole?”

Silence.

“Glad you're okay.”

“Mhm.” Steven sat upright and groaned at the large movement. “Feels like I got thrown into a wall.”

“You did,” Claire replied briskly, turning to him. “Chris, what's the plan?”

He rubbed the aching shoulder wound where an emergency parasite removal took place. He had a bad feeling this wasn't over. It was too good to be back in concrete reality. Their unknown enemy wouldn't give up after a few of its illusions were defeated. Sin had plans for them and he thought of what he could do that might let them stay safe.

“I don't know. I guess what I said. Find vehicles. Get to a safe location.”

Claire scoffed. “Do you mean, 'we' or just civilians?”

“What do you mean?”

“You expect me to believe you're going to stop throwing yourself into danger? That won't happen. Not as long as people are out there getting hurt and you know it.”

“Claire.”

“That freak is still out there who's doing all of this. You're not calling it a day until you have him. Right?”

“I'm just doing my job, Claire.” He moved close to grip her shoulder. “I'm not trying to get myself killed.”

“Could have fooled me,” she muttered.

He stiffened. The awkwardness was palpable. Tension grew between him and his sister ever since Jill's presumed death. He never could forgive himself for losing his partner and friend that night in Spencer's Estate. He shut himself away from everyone, buried in his work and physical training.

His relentless efforts were meant to create the illusion he was okay and merely busy with work. He failed to be around her though, keeping away from parts of his life which could remind him of the life he had with Jill. He'd rarely seen his sister over the last few years and Claire held a grudge for it. He didn't blame her.

Claire's expression lightened. “I'm just saying you should be more careful, Chris.”

“I know,” he replied, checking their surroundings to not have to look at her.

He hated disappointing people he cared about.

“Good. Otherwise there may never be any little Redfields running around in the future.”

Chris stared directly at her. What?

Eva giggled. The first noise to come from anyone else. He didn't think he ever heard her giggle before. She had a nice smile. It was pleasant to see her bringing it out more.

“Aw... Little mini Redfields. How cute!”

He looked at Eva, trying not to sigh. Leave it to his sister to drive the conversation this way.

“Mini..Redfields...”

Chris studied Wesker, knowing he would inevitably follow up his slow drawl.

“Perish the thought.”

He acknowledged Wesker's comment with a grunt of agreement. He couldn't picture ever having kids. From the Air Force to Raccoon City Police Department Special Tactics and Rescue Service. On to his Anti-Umbrella sabotage missions to an agent for the Bio-terrorism Security Assessment Alliance. He couldn't see starting a family added in there.

He was a soldier in some form or another all his life. He didn't really know how to do anything else. Fighting was what he was good at. And yes, throwing himself in harm's way was what he'd been doing forever. A dedication to protect others was what he knew and he didn't want that to change. Especially when he failed Jill in such a major way. Her death meant he had a lot to make up for.

Why was Wesker looking at Eva like that now? Was he missing something?

“I'm fine, Nathan.”

He persisted to keep Steven's arm around his shoulders to support his weight when he began walking with a limp. Okay. Everybody he cared about was on their feet. Time to move.

Sheva picked up on his readiness to go on.

“What should we do, partner?”

A thought occurred. Her team. The BSAA soldiers she said she had taken under her lead much like he chose to do with Alpha. Where were they?

“Sheva, what happened to Delta team?”

She became somber immediately. “A group of majini ambushed us. There were so many... They didn't make it.”

“How very sad,” Wesker said, climbing to his feet. “There's a building over there.”

He and Sheva turned to glare at Wesker's callous disregard for lives. Sheva placed her hands on her hips and Chris crossed his arms on his chest. Eva wanted him to “save” Wesker? He couldn't think of a tougher request she could have asked of him.

“Have some respect for the dead. They were our comrades.”

“No, they were more than comrades. Some of them were my friends,” Sheva revised, upset.

“Everyone dies, my dear. It's a fact of life,” Wesker said to her. After a pause, he added arrogantly, “Well... Everyone but me. I can't die it seems. I just keep coming back. Right, Chris?”

He clamped his jaw together and told himself he wouldn't let his enemy get to him. It was incredibly hard not to strike out at the other man when he was giving his trademark smirk. But he knew it wasn't wise because even injured, Wesker could probably tear him apart. Seemingly satisfied with Chris's reaction to his words, he returned to the matter at hand and repeated his earlier announcement.

“There's a building over there.” Wesker pointed past his shoulder. “Let's go.”

Chris resisted the urge to look behind to see what he referred to. He kept his arms folded on his chest and kept the glare. He didn't like Wesker giving orders in place of him. He didn't like he could hear everyone getting to their feet as they actually listened to the order.

He gave in and looked. He couldn't see a building. Lowering his arms, he renewed his glare, annoyance leaking in with the anger.

“I don't see a building.” The corners of his mouth upturned in a small smirk. “Is your eyesight failing you in your old age?”

The reaction wasn't what he hoped for. Wesker didn't seem disturbed by the assertion he was old and losing his touch. Instead, he drew closer to him until he stood so close their noses would touch if he moved the tiniest inch forward. Chris held his ground, holding the stare through those dark shades.

Seconds ticked by. He wondered if his discomfort at their proximity was evident. His senses felt heightened, body heating up and creating sweat. The lips turned up and he knew Wesker knew and was enjoying every moment of his stubborn act.

Leaning close and putting his lips to his ear, he intentionally spoke loud for everyone to hear.

“I'm not human, Chris. I can see farther than a normal individual in daylight. I noticed the building around the time the appalling idea of you reproducing came up.”

Shrewd. He balled his fists, grinding his teeth. He fumed silently at the blow to his ego. Meanwhile, Wesker stepped back and smirked. As furious as he was, he didn't have anything clever or defiant to say. He was just angry. But he had a job to do.

“Fine, let's head over to the building,” he muttered under his breath.

Wesker tilted his head, cocking an ear toward him. “I'm sorry, you'll have to speak up. Did you say we should agree with my decision and go to the building across the field?”

He grimaced realizing Wesker was going to make him admit it out loud to everyone or they wouldn't be moving. Fixing a glare on him, he turned his back to the man to look in the direction they were to go. He could take the higher ground.

“Yeah, yeah. You're right about heading to the building. Can we go now?”

“Certainly.”

Chris flinched as he felt hot breath against his ear. He had moved to stand directly behind him to whisper in his ear.

“As for your remark about my aging, I don't do that anymore.”

He raised an eyebrow. He didn't think the other man appeared any older than when he last saw him a couple years ago or ten years ago for that matter. Chris assumed he merely looked good for his age or whatever.

“You don't age?”

He couldn't resist asking.

Wesker stepped away, giving him decent space, and nodded. “Correct.”

Chris stared in amazement, intrigued by this new information. Wesker moved by him ignoring the stares, and started to cross the field to the unseen building in the distance. Eva hurried to catch up so she could walk beside him and the others followed behind them.

After exchanging glances with his partner, he and Sheva trailed the rest of the group through the field. All he could do was be glad he successfully completed his original mission, mostly, and hope they had seen the last of Sin's deception.


	17. The Thin Line Between Good and Evil

Ten minutes of walking brought into sight the building Wesker spotted. It turned out to be a very dilapidated shed and the disappointment was clear on their faces. Except for Wesker and Eva, who remained ever so emotionless as they took in the sight of the rundown shed. He noticed his sister's continuous looks of concern and curiosity thrown his way as they walked together.

He sighed purposefully loud. “What is it?”

“What? Uh..nothing. Never mind,” she stammered, startled he saw her looking.

“What's on your mind, Claire?”

A moment of hesitation but then she asked, “Is something wrong?”

The group reached the shed which gave everyone the opportunity to wait and see what he replied. Why were they always so interested?

He made himself smile, reassuring. “Nothing is wrong, Claire. Everything's gonna be okay.”

“You're lying.”

Chris was genuinely surprised. “No.”

He meant the words, even if he didn't feel them.

“I can always tell when you're hiding things. Your eyes don't match your mouth when you smile.”

He didn't know these people. Except for the whole keeping each other alive all day kind of deal. And they were staring at them now. He didn't need that. _Come on, Claire..._

His smile faltered. He knew it was painfully obvious to everyone she was right. They were providing unwanted pressure. His shoulder and thigh started throbbing more persistent. He put a hand on the bothersome injury to his shoulder, inhaling and exhaling slow.

“You're right. I just don't feel like this is over. I don't believe Sin is finished with us yet and I have this bad feeling something awful will happen.”

“Don't worry, Chris. Nothing bad is going to happen,” Eva said. “Sin told us there was a traitor and there isn't. No one was killed and no one kidnapped. Sin was lying to stir us up.”

He liked the girl, but she could be naive. She was really innocent and he didn't want that to change. He feared because of who her father was and because she thought he was someone who could help the guy, trouble would be her life. It all came down to probabilities. It wasn't fair.

Sherry Birkin was a prime example of unfairness. She was a little girl infected with a virus people wanted to get their hands on. She was quarantined and would be under the supervision and control of the government for the rest of her life. It was the only way they'd ever let her out of the facility one day. Claire visited her when she could. It wasn't fair for her and he suspected life wouldn't be fair for Eva Jane Wesker either.

Wesker... He had a hard time thinking there was another Wesker out in the world. He became aware both Weskers were staring at him now, waiting for him to speak. A response was expected apparently. Fine.

“Yeah. You might be right.” He scanned the front of the building. “I guess we should take a look inside.”

No one seemed particularly eager to go in blind so Chris ended up announcing he was going in alone. Sheva volunteered to remain with the others to keep them protected. They had clear view on all sides. It was a secure position at present.

/

“Why is he worried? Does he think more of us might die? He's tough. So are you, Da-Wesker. Why can't he...?”

“What would you ask of him, Eva? He never expected to have a group of people to take care of. He doubts everything because it would be foolish to accept anything at face value.”

“That's stupid,” she protested. “And it's stupid he thinks I can't help too.”

“What would you do, Eva?”

“Stop talking to me like that.”

“Like what?”

“Stop!”

“Why can't you listen?”

“Were you committing genocide or suicide, _Dad_?”

“Eva.”

“Answer.”

“Eva. Enough.”

“Genocide or suicide?”

“Eva Jane.”

She shut up. They had an audience. She really didn't want her personal stuff on display any more than Wesker did. Her gaze explored the vast openness of the dry landscape.

“There's a connection between you. I see it even if neither of you do.”

She held her stare straight ahead. “I don't understand.”

“For some reason the two of you are able to see eye to eye. Perhaps it's because you both want to live to fight and never back down when the odds are against you. Regardless of the why, there's a willing bond. He's taken responsibility for you and listened to your wish for his help. Now he has to worry he'll lose it.”

Eva frowned. She was getting a headache.

“He helped me stop you from making the ultimate mistake. He did that although I gave every reason for him not to trust me. I won't let him down. Dad... He doesn't make me feel useless..and I feel like I might get you back.”

A slight twitch of Wesker's jaw indicated his aversion to her feelings. He was twisted by hate and self-loathing. He deflected his rage for injustices, projecting it onto the world. Why did they seem concerned for her well-being? She could take care of herself.

She sighed and looked at her father, finally asking what she couldn't quit wondering.

“Why is he worried he'll lose someone?”

Wesker's reply came immediate and simple. “Because he always does.”

He turned away and went to join the search of the shed. Eva stayed where she was thinking over everything her father said. It was then she remembered the dead in the foyer of the mansion. The female in particular.

She met the strange, silent woman when she came to stay with her father for a while. Excella Gionne described the woman as one of her playthings and Eva overheard the two of them talking about the device on the woman's chest. A device which injected her with a chemical called P30 that was able to control her actions.

She realized from her investigation into Chris Redfield, Jill Valentine was the woman who fell through the window with Wesker after saving Chris's life in Spencer's Estate. Jill was the woman who died in the mansion's foyer earlier that day. A woman who worked alongside Chris for years. Her dad could have killed him and killed her. But she was fine. He kept her alive. She was healed. Why did she die? What happened?

She just felt so guilty. She knew some of what her father did. She could have reported him. She never would. She loved him and wanted to keep him safe.

Chris wanted to keep all of them safe.

Eva passed the others standing around and entered the shed.

The BSAA agent must have given up the search. He leaned against a wooden shelf attached to one of the walls. Wesker rifled through papers scattered haphazardly throughout the room. She did a quick scan herself.

In a dark corner of the rectangular room, Eva noticed something on a top shelf which caught her eye. It was barely visible so it wasn't until she was right in front that she saw what looked to be a thin metal briefcase. Reaching for it, she miscalculated her short stature and the height of the shelving unit. Her hand sent the case crashing to the ground. A handgun with a silencer attached popped out.

Her dad and Chris lifted their attention to the spot, hearing it fall. She bent to pick up the case. Two pieces of paper fluttered to the floor. One was wrinkled and torn, the other appeared in good condition.

Snatching the papers up, she turned them over and skimmed the written content. Certain words jumped out at her on the page. She stared, no longer seeing words and only comprehending letters. She wasn't sure if she wanted to be sick or wanted to scream.

“Well? Anything of interest?”

Eva raised her eyes from the paper and numbly nodded in reply to her father. “Everyone needs to hear this.”

She avoided Chris's gaze and walked out of the shed to the others. She grasped the pieces of paper firm in her hands. They followed and stood near the entrance to the shed while she stood farther outside, facing everyone there.

“What's going on?” Sheva asked Chris, coming to stand by her partner.

He told her he didn't know. She could feel his eyes on her back. At least she thought she could.

When everyone was giving Eva their full attention, she read the wrinkled and slightly torn piece of paper.

_“Memo 3174. Revitalization of Umbrella. The Bio-terrorism Security Assessment Alliance (BSAA) has been created by ex-STARS members. We've infiltrated the bio-terrorism government agency at all levels from the start to avoid suspicion. The organization's true purpose is now to revive the Umbrella Corporation. Using a bio-terrorism agency will allow us access to information on virus activity. Ex-STARS members and survivors of the Mansion Incident, C. Redfield and J. Valentine, are to be closely monitored since they are well-known for their anti-Umbrella activities in the past.”_

Eva moved on to the fresher piece of paper without delay.

_“Special agent assigned. Mission orders: C. Redfield has been sent to Kijuju to meet with you. Alpha and Delta teams have been sent in separately. The BSAA members are completely uninformed about our true goals and should prove a successful distraction for infected inhabitants of the area and of course, A. Wesker. Objectives are the following: Retrieve sample of Uroboros. Retrieve sample of Progenitor virus. (A sample of A. Wesker's blood may be acceptable.) Eliminate A. Wesker upon procurement of the viruses. Capture test subject E. Wesker for further experimentation and evaluation.”_

She lowered the papers and glared furiously at Sheva. “You were with Umbrella this entire time!”

Sheva stared wide-eyed, seemingly shocked. “What? No! I had no idea the BSAA was Umbrella!”

The agent turned to Chris, eyes pleading for him to hear her out. “You have to believe me, Chris. I didn't know. I'm as surprised as you! I thought Umbrella was gone. How could I have known they were involved in the events here? Don't you believe your partner, Chris?”

He looked uncertain, but also like he was leaning toward believing her. It was his partner. As far as Eva observed from afar when they were together exploring through the African town and buildings, she was a good person. They watched each other's backs and she saved his life numerous times on their mission before they got separated. It made sense to believe and trust a partner. Eva had proof though.

“You say you're not involved with Umbrella? That you had no knowledge of these orders?”

Sheva nodded her head vigorously. “That's right. I had no idea of Umbrella's involvement!”

“Then why were these orders sent to you?”

Her story falling apart in front of her, Eva read the last lines.

_“The fate of the new Umbrella Corporation rests in your hands, Sheva Alomar. Do not disappoint as so many have before.”_

She marched over and handed the papers straight to Chris. It was his partner who betrayed them, giving him the right to see the evidence with his own eyes so there would be no doubt. While he read over what she read aloud, she recalled a warning and gave voice to it.

“Someone is betraying you all, someone is lying, someone will try to kill one of you and kidnap another. Sin was telling the truth. Sheva is the liar! She was working for Umbrella all along!”

Her triumph dampened a bit when she saw the look on Chris. He looked beyond stunned. He stared at the pieces of paper in his hands like they burned. The guilt returned. Here she was proud about her investigative skills and Chris was reeling from the unearthing of life-altering information.

All this time he was working for the BSAA, he was actually working for Umbrella. His new partner, who he likely developed a certain level of trust and care for over the course of the day's events, betrayed him. She intentionally worked for an evil company when BSAA agents were supposed to stop people like that. He looked..hollowed.

Sheva drew her gun and pointed it at Wesker, backing away from the assembled people who thought they could rely on her. She openly revealed pure hatred for the man in her sights. Dad was calm. He was the most composed and unaffected person in the room.

“The serum was supposed to kill you. Why didn't it kill you?” Sheva demanded, anger in her tone.

Wesker folded his arms across his chest as he met her furious glare. “Correction. Your superiors thought an overdose of the serum _might_ kill me. Umbrella had no way to know if it would work or not, but I suppose they didn't bother to inform you of that little fact. I'll also assume they didn't mention they were sending you in blind and ill-equipped for the number of hostiles. They sent you on a suicide mission, _Agent_ Alomar. How does it make you feel, hm? Knowing you are just another dispensable pawn for Umbrella.”

“Shut up!” Sheva screamed.

Her voice trembled. She was losing control. Chris moved to stand in the space between Wesker and Sheva as her finger shifted to the trigger of her gun.

“Sheva, you don't want to do this!” he reasoned. “You're not a killer. You're a good person, Sheva. It's not too late for you to back out of your mission. You can still get away from Umbrella.”

She forced her eyes away from Wesker, gaze still angry, but fear mixing in.

“No, I can't. Nobody leaves Umbrella. If they're done with you, then you're as good as dead. And if you try to get out yourself, then you're as good as dead. There is no leaving. If I fail them, they won't just come after me either. They'll come after my friends too. Umbrella doesn't leave loose ends. I have to come back with something.”

Eva could see she was growing more and more unstable. They had to defuse the situation. Pronto.

“I know better than anyone, the things Umbrella's done,” he said, speaking soothingly to try and calm her anxious agitation. “I know people who have escaped Umbrella's grasp. I know people who survived them and I'll help you do the same. You have a choice, Sheva.”

“Yeah,” Chris's sister agreed, moving nearer on Sheva's right but not close enough to startle or prompt shooting. “You get to choose whether you're going to be good or you're going to be evil. If you side with Umbrella then you're just like them. Give the gun to Chris, and you're one of us. You'll be one of the good guys.”

Indecision flickered across her features and Chris used the moment to seal her cooperation.

“Sheva.”

Her confused feelings showed on her face. Her eyes darted to him when he spoke her name.

“You told me your parents died in an accident similar to the ones Umbrella Corporation has let happen again and again. Do you really want to work for people no different than those who caused your parents' deaths?”

A haunted look came into her eyes, from the memory of her parents possibly. He held out a hand to take the gun and Eva held her breath, watching. A few seconds of hesitation and she handed the weapon to him. Once the gun was out of her hand, Claire came over to Sheva and offered a gentle smile.

“Now you're one of the good guys.”

Sheva tried to force a smile but failed miserably. The rest of the group was eyeing her with much deserved distrust and reservation. She doubted anyone would be relying on her anytime soon. Eva stared hard at the traitor, gratified when Sheva averted her eyes to stare at the ground.

Something caught her attention in her peripheral vision and Eva looked left. The FBI agent...

“Anderson, no!” she hollered.

Agent Anderson advanced to stand less than a foot from Sheva. She could only listen to muted blasts of a silenced gun. Sheva lowered her gaze to her shirt rapidly staining red. The wet substance spread from two spots.

The woman looked to Chris. “Oh.”

She collapsed.


	18. The Cost of Life

He jerked forward, realizing what happened and watching Sheva fall. Agent Anderson aligned his weapon with her head and fired. She was dead. _Son of a bitch!_

Anderson yelled out in anger of an impostor, halting him in his tracks. Chris followed the voice and found Anderson. He looked back at the FBI agent he'd been about to take down.

“That's not me! You bastard!” Anderson cursed at his identical copy.

The Anderson standing over Sheva's body smiled. “You should be thanking me. I killed your traitor.”

They knew for certain who the copy was now.

“Sin,” he growled, rage rising. “You'll pay for her death!”

Sin chuckled. “I've given you an explicit reason to kill me, Christopher. Now we can resolve this stalemate.”

Before their eyes he began to change, shifting into a handsome younger man. He had an overall disheveled appearance, unkept faded hair spiking up in random patches. Dark spots shadowed his eyes, making their icy blue color appear even more prominent. His cheeks were sunken, contrasting a muscular and healthy looking body shown well with the red tank top he wore. Black sweatpants, brown boots, brown leather wrist guards, and fingerless black gloves, gave the impression he dressed himself in haste.

Was this his true appearance or another lie?

He grinned. Though his lips were openly twisted up in a smile, the smile failed to reach his eyes, exposing how false it really was. Is this what Claire meant about him?

He believed he never looked so malicious.

“It was disappointing when all of you managed to survive my precious Alexia creation. She was so powerful and you snuffed her out easy as wind to a flame. Killing someone myself has made me feel a bit better,” Sin admitted. “But Alomar was a nobody, disposable. Killing _you_ will make my day.”

His fake smile dropped when he said this, staring at Chris. He glared back, angry murdering Sheva meant nothing to him.

“They call me Specter,” Sin said. “They feared me as much as they desired to use me.”

They? Umbrella? He started reaching for his gun, trying not to alert him to the movement.

“Hm... This place doesn't seem quite fitting for our fight. How about the place that began it all for you, Christopher?”

Dry ground and a darkening sunset sky were disappearing. He checked on the group to see they remained with him and weren't thoughtlessly acting. Now they stood on a flat dirt covered hill. He noted to the left there was a huge drop where the hill abruptly ended. The sky was cloudy, sun beginning its rise above the horizon to allow light to break through.

Sin, or rather, Specter, waved a hand vaguely behind him.

“Remember this place, Christopher? Well..technically you weren't there when it happened. Perhaps your beloved sister recalls her moments here. Well, Claire?” Specter eagerly asked.

She frowned and stepped closer to Specter so she could see where he gestured. Chris drew his sidearm and raised it to point at the threat. A loud explosion echoed throughout the area where they stood and an enormous mushroom cloud expanded from beyond the hill.

“Raccoon City!” Claire exclaimed with barely masked horror.

“An interesting place for your brother to meet his end.”

“Don't you touch him!” his sister cried.

Specter's response was to lift her off her feet by her chin before tossing her away. She hit the ground and her head smacked into the hard surface but she seemed all right as she sat up. Claire and Nathan rushed to her aid, which proved unnecessary. His sister let them help her stand and then insisted on standing on her own.

“Christopher, this is for you.” Specter threw a sword at his feet.

Chris stared at the blade. He was pretty sure it was a katana. He didn't lower his gun.

“You can't be serious.”

Specter lifted his eyes to the murky sky. “The sky is mourning. So many have died because of me today. So many of your friends are gone...”

He paid mind to the gun pointing at his face finally. No worry, fear, or any real emotion was in his impassive stare. Chris prepared to shoot to kill. This wasn't someone he could let walk away.

“The skies mourn Jill's death, Christopher,” he taunted. “Oh yes, and your new partner. She should be mourned too.”

Specter gave him a look of mock scolding. “It must have been painful to have someone you trusted turn on you like that. A person deceiving their partner..is the ultimate betrayal.”

“Don't talk about her like that. She was a good person and you murdered her in cold blood.”

“So honorable of you, Christopher. Defending her to the very last. But there's no sense in defending her now that she's dead, so don't bother. Had she lived, she would just be living long enough to disappoint you again.”

He turned on the rest of them, seeking to spread the torment. “You humans are terribly flawed creatures. Constant bickering, greed, vanity... Of course, I revel in it. If you weaklings weren't so pathetically predictable then I wouldn't be standing here at this moment, stronger than ever. Come on, Christopher. Pick up your sword and fight.”

Chris didn't listen. The man's pale hair reminded him of how Jill's appeared, washed-out and unnatural. He hated parts of what Specter was saying was true. He hated himself for losing Jill and not saving her. He hated that he hated anything because it made him feel angry and useless.

“Every moment you delay our fight, one of your friends will pay the price.”

As if to prove his threat, he swept a hand toward the others. Wesker gasped, gurgling blood from his mouth. He clutched a knife that had stabbed his throat. Horrified, Eva ran to her father sinking to his knees. He didn't like seeing her scared.

“Specter!” he yelled. “Leave them alone!”

“Then pick up your sword. I won't even use mine.”

He grudgingly holstered the gun and stooped to pick up the sword. He had _some_ experience with a sword as he had taken a few lessons a long time ago, but he was much better with a gun. He was an excellent marksman and he figured Specter probably knew it and was exploiting something he wasn't good at. Chris noticed Specter had an identical sword held lowered in his left hand.

He thought back years to recall memories of his lessons. If this guy had any skill with a blade, he was going to be screwed. He leveled the sword at his opponent and something sharp pierced his chest before he could take a single step.

Chris teetered on his feet suddenly feeling lightheaded. He dropped to one knee. His mind became confused and his vision blurry. After a moment everything cleared a bit and he lowered his eyes to his chest. A small dart protruded from his upper right chest and he was guessing it had been laced with some kind of drug. He felt disoriented and woozy whenever he moved too sudden.

“Cheap shot!” Steven shouted, pissed.

He yanked out the dart, his blood glistening on the tip. He dropped it on the ground and made himself stand up. Chris glared at Specter for the unfair attack. What was he expecting from someone like him?

“Poor reflexes,” he observed, and raced for him to attack.

Chris blinked rapidly, staring blankly while his opponent closed in. His vision was like a strobe light blinking throughout his surroundings. He couldn't gauge the space between him and his enemy well.

Specter was almost on him and he had to do something or stand still and die. He made a prediction and swept the blade horizontally in front to the right. His throat constricted in concern when he felt the sword pass through air.

A fist smashed into the underside of his chin. His head snapped back with the hard blow and blood welled in his mouth when he bit his tongue a little. Faltering backward, he threw his head forward to regain balance. Warm blood leaked out of his mouth and he wiped it away with the back of his hand.

Stuck in this daze, he gathered his determination to win and charged for Specter. He swept the sword in front again and the other man stepped to the right so it missed. He spun and tried again.

This pattern continued for a while, Chris swinging the sword to try and land a hit. His opponent dodged his attacks effortlessly and was enjoying himself. Specter blocked his next attack with a leather wrist guard and proceeded to bring his leg up, connecting his knee with the side of Chris's head.

The blow flipped him around in midair and he landed roughly on the ground. _Ow..._ He could hear the shouts of members of their group wanting to get involved. He shouted no, ordering them to stay out of it.

He dragged to his feet and Specter appeared beside him. A hand tightened on his throat and the other hand socked him in the stomach. Chris gasped sharply as his lungs expelled air and he was released. Doubling over to deal with his breathlessness, two hands entwined came down on his back.

Dropped to his knees, he stood quick only to be in time for a hand to shove into his face, pushing him away. He stumbled but propelled forward for an attack. When he was in Specter's range, a fist slammed into his face before a boot smashed into his chest. The kick had enough power behind it to send him flying until his body connected with something solid.

It was a large boulder. He used it to heave himself upright. His eye was bleeding, partially blinding him. He breathed hard, mostly wheezing air. He was exhausted. Damn drug stole his chance for an offensive.

Specter smiled victoriously. His smile widened when Chris started to make his way toward him. He was counting this as his win already. It wasn't over.

“Why don't you give up, Christopher? Humans love to give up, so why don't you? What keeps you fighting?”

His curiosity sounded genuine. He let his hand slide away from his right eye. It was swollen shut and he could feel blood dripping out of his mouth. He met Specter's gaze.

“I have a duty to stop you and people like you who hurt innocents,” he informed with defiance. “So the BSAA is a cover for Umbrella, fine. That doesn't change the numerous missions I completed as an agent to stop people needing to be stopped. And now that I know Umbrella's still out there, I'm going to find them and take them down once and for all. But I'll start with you.”

Specter laughed and took a knife out of his jacket. His own sword lay long abandoned on the ground. He turned it casually as he regarded the other man with distaste.

“Are you even aware of who you fight for? You fight to stop those that sin by protecting sinners. Don't you see? Everybody lies, cheats, steals... People are selfish and greedy. They care nothing for the sacrifices you make and would throw you to the wolves if it would benefit them in any way. You fight to save sinners who don't deserve to live.”

“No.” He straightened his stance as best he could manage. “There are good people out there. Everyone makes mistakes but that doesn't mean they should have to suffer or die. It's the evil ones who don't value human life deserving justice and I'm going to give it to them.”

“Foolishly stubborn to the end I see. Oh well, I don't need you to understand the reality of the world. I just need you to die.”

Specter ran for Chris with the knife and he ran for his attacker with the sword. The effects of the drug seemed to have worn off or he'd beaten its influence because his run wasn't staggered and slow. His good eye locked on his moving target.

He cut the sweep of his sword short, seeing Specter got behind him, but a knife slashed in a crisscrossing fashion against his backside several times. He screamed at the stinging agony and a boot dug into his side, sending him sprawling to the dirt. His back felt like it was on fire and blood trailed into his one functional eye from a new gash above his eyebrow.

Chris struggled to stand despite his protesting body. The drug that plagued him at the start of the fight sealed his doom. Heh. No way. He wasn't dying here like this, Wesker watching him.

He wasn't somebody to give up, so he hurried for his enemy as fast as he could move. Specter returned the action, walking for him at a slow stroll. He cried out in hurt anger, closing his eye and letting adrenaline fuel his effort.

Bringing the sword above his head, he swept it in a downward arc. The blade sank deep into flesh, wet blood splashing onto his face. His good eye opened wide, surprised to hit his mark so completely.

Eva gasped, shock freezing her in place. _No!_ She came between them. _Why?_ Chris brought the weapon to his side and saw how she gripped Specter's knife in her hand by the sharp end. She meant to stop a kill stroke on him and now he'd killed her.

Specter hurtled away in pain, blood spilling out of him. He did get his enemy. Eva took the brunt of the sharp weapon's descent, however, and subsequent moments seemed to pass in slow motion.

The girl's eyes bulged, equal parts surprise and pain. He nearly cut through the entire right section of her torso. Her fingers held the knife tight in her bleeding hand when she fell. Specter screeched furious and agonized.

Chris darted to look in the event the enemy was an imminent danger. Blood gushing from a large laceration across his chest and arm, the man was staring at Eva.

“I don't..understand..humans...” Specter gasped before he fell.

His eyes stared blank at the darkened sky overhead.

Chris let the sword go and gathered Eva in his arms. The motion of falling might have awakened Eva from her shock. Her green-eyes blinked slowly, looking into his eyes when he sought her to see him. He was probably imagining it, but he swore he could feel the life draining out of the young girl. He wouldn't look scared or sad. He would be strong for her.

He searched for Wesker. The man was struggling to them, strained with his injuries but set on his path. He let him take her smaller form into his arms and sat back on his heels, useless. He had forgotten however briefly, who her father was and that he was here.

He could tell he loved her. For a while there, he believed Wesker was incapable of love or feelings in general. Ever since meeting Eva, he saw an increasing amount of emotion and humanity in the man.

The darkened sky was appropriate as he stared at the dying girl. She was too young. Grief flooded him. He was so tired of everything going wrong in his life, of losing people. Was he cursed, causing everyone around him to die?

“Chris...” Eva said, eyes shining with happiness.

Her lips turned upward in a weak smile. “I'm grateful..to be able to help you...”

With those words, her eyes dulled. She didn't see him anymore.

Tears rolled from his eyes. He had no right to cry. He knew her for a day. He...

Claire came to kneel next to him. She convinced him to move away from the dead girl to rejoin the others. They looked at him with sympathy or sadness. He supposed it wasn't so bad to be sad.

Wesker stood fast, staring down at his daughter's body in surprise.

He didn't want to know what else might go wrong, yet he asked, “What is it?”

Eva sat up with a loud groan, rubbing the back of her head. “Ugh. Death is _not_ fun.”


	19. What Doesn't Kill Us...

She got to her feet soaked in fresh blood like she didn't even have a paper cut. The disbelief was palpable among everyone. Eva fingered the crimson substance staining her black clothing.

“Sticky,” she said with distaste. “Time for a new outfit it seems.”

It was apparent she was attempting to alleviate the heavy atmosphere and stunned stares coming from all sides. She tried a different tact when it didn't succeed.

“I think I died, but I woke up and I'm good as new. Healed. Well..not completely.”

Chris followed her glance to the arm fallen out of its sling. The injured limb hung limp to her side. Out of the blue she bent down and lifted her pant leg. He moved close to view the scar from childhood she showed them earlier was there.

“Sit down, moron,” Nathan scolded his brother, who was pallid and groping at his injured ankle.

He might have been putting his weight on the broken ankle too much. He monitored them moving away from the group to find a rock for Steven to sit on before turning back to Eva.

More curious than anything else, she looked at Wesker and asked, “I should assume this is the R-Virus taking effect, yeah? It heals mortal wounds and not previously acquired injuries. Huh. Weird.”

Maybe the trauma would hit later. This girl just died and came back to life, yet she was more interested in the scientific aspect. A genius thing? A kid thing? A family thing? She really _was_ Wesker's daughter.

Sneaking a peek at Wesker, he could practically see the gears turning in his mind while he studied Eva.

“Eva! I'm so happy you're okay!” Claire exclaimed, the teenager ecstatic to see the other person her age was alive when they were certain she was dead. “It's unbelievable!”

“I wonder if it's affecting you in other ways,” Wesker contemplated, raining on the parade as usual. “There were no major symptoms of the viral infection until your death. Perhaps the R-Virus is similar to mine in that it requires the host's death for activation. You may begin to display symptoms or further mutation. We have to keep you under close observation and commence testing at the earliest possibility.”

Dr. Patel was nodding along through all of this, enthusiastic and intrigued. Science people. He just didn't get them. He preferred to do, not think. The thought soured his mood a fraction when he considered it was why Wesker looked down on him.

Eva rolled her eyes. “Well if you keep your promise then we won't have a problem, now will we?”

Steven limped closer, staring at the girl like she was some fascinating exhibit in a zoo. “Wow. You'd have to be the only one of us who could come back from death. Lucky it was you that happened to.”

Chris readily glared. “It wasn't lucky. It shouldn't have happened.”

She huffed in Steven's direction. “It hurt like hell so I'm not looking for a repeat performance if that's what you're suggesting.”

“Eva, I'm sorry.”

“You don't have to be,” she answered immediate, looking at him with big eyes. “You didn't mean to.”

“You're really brave,” Claire told her.

His sister agreed. “You saved Chris. I owe you thanks.”

Eva shrugged but the smile growing on her lips gave her true feelings away. “Yeah, I guess.”

“Don't be modest,” he said, giving her an appreciative smile. “You're a hero.”

She blushed and avoided his gaze while his sister looked him over head to toe.

“You look like crap.”

“Gee, thanks. Always nice to hear.”

He probably did look terrible. He sure felt like shit. Every ounce of him hurt. He was half blind at the moment and his back... He was trying not to think about the pain coming off his back.

Now it was relief discernible among them. Everyone was alive, no one in danger of dying, and it was over. Specter or Sin was defeated and the threat he could pose to them and the world was solved. He could relax a little and focus on getting these people home.

Jones caught his eye when the man started pacing. He was frowning while peering around at their surroundings. Chris scanned the area himself, wondering why they hadn't reverted back to the flatlands and remained near where Raccoon City used to exist. Specter could create illusions. He couldn't teleport things, right?

“Still pretty lucky,” Steven said, staring at Eva trying to feel comfortable in blood-soaked clothes.

Chris turned toward him. “Yeah, I suppose it was.”

Did he have a point? Why was he looking so fascinated? _Whoa._ His look had become awfully hostile.

Eva was taken aback by the sudden unfriendly stare. He put his back to her and approached Chris, who tensed automatic. Something was off about this guy.

Steven studied his battle-worn appearance. “Sin did a number on you.”

“Yeah, Specter did. But I killed him so the rest doesn't matter. These wounds will heal so it's no big deal.” He wanted to get this intrusive examining stare away from him. “Are you okay?”

He appeared not to hear the concern for him. “Yes, those wounds will heal. But can you survive this?”

Chris startled when Steven snatched the magnum from his non-dominant thigh holster and pointed it at his chest. It was the easier weapon to steal because of that, but still, it was sloppy on his part to let it happen. Failing to prevent Steven from taking the gun, he looked at the younger Russo in confusion and surprise. The behavior didn't track with what he knew about this guy, but then, they hadn't known one another for much time.

“A pity. You should know the company you keep better, Christopher.”

The way his name rolled off the tongue... It wasn't Steven. But how...? He risked searching for Specter's body. Still there. Checked for Steven and Nathan where he last saw them wandering. He could see both of them. In fact, they were looking over, alarmed to see a twin.

“Steven...?” he hesitantly asked, already knowing it wasn't and reaching for his handgun holstered on the right.

A sneer twisted his face. “Not Steven.”

He fired the bullet into his chest. He tried firing more but the gun was empty. Chris's mind was slipping. The pain was extraordinary and everything seemed like it was slowing down.

Agent Anderson tackled the Steven copy to the ground. It had to be Specter, but Specter was over there... Specter's body he confirmed to be present. How then? Right. Illusion power...

His body felt weightless. He stumbled and tangled his own feet together in an effort to feel connected. He was feeling numb and it was spreading to his mind, confusing his motor functions. He didn't like that. He had to think.

He was falling and he was going over the side of the steep hill. Ground crumbled beneath a heel and he fell airborne. There wasn't any fear. It was too difficult to hold a thought or idea. He allowed gravity to do its work as a burst of pain swept through him.

Wait. Someone halted the rapid fall. Someone painfully dug their nails into his arm and dragged him along. Where were they going?

He opened his eyes when he realized they were shut. Or eye. One eye obeyed the wish to see.

At the top, two hands shifted him into two arms, carrying him farther from the drop-off. He was placed on the ground and he glimpsed Wesker's face as it moved away.

It was hard to breathe. Correction. It hurt to breathe.

“You have to save him.”

Eva kept repeating the phrase.

His throat emitted choking noises from the blood accumulating in it. Wesker returned and lifted his head and shoulders into his lap so he could breathe easier. Kindness from him? Not likely. Maybe he was hallucinating or Specter was playing more of his illusion tricks on him.

Dr. Patel appeared in his line of sight, kneeling, pushing down on his chest. _Ow! Ow! Stop! No!_

It was a magnum bullet. It shredded his insides. Must have. He was dead. He was gonna die. A mean voice reached him through the pain. He wanted to cling to it, hoping it would somehow lessen the excruciating agony.

“In the end I won. My victory was assured. One cannot hope to triumph over sin. Christopher succeeded in only delaying what was inevitable,” Specter spewed out gleefully. “Go on. Let the darkness consume your soul. Come on. Embrace damnation, Christopher.”

“Shut up!”

Claire. Why was his sister screaming?

Someone eased the sidearm out of his right holster. A flash of red color. Claire?

He tilted his head, desperate to see what was going on. Steven wasn't Steven. Specter was held to the dirt by Anderson and Jones. He was... They looked at their hands in confusion. The hands were slipping through his body. So then it wasn't really him?

“I had enough strength...” His voice was fading as his physical form turned more and more transparent. “For one final specter...”

Dr. Patel removed his bloody hands from Chris's chest, looking at Wesker and shaking his head. He heard a gunshot too far out of his range of vision. Who was that? What happened?

“We have to save him!”

That was Eva. He wished people would stop screaming on his account. He was exhausted. The pain didn't seem so bad anymore. He could handle this until he bled out or his lungs gave out or whatever brought the sweet mercy of death.

Wesker had to bring everyone to safety. If he knew that would happen he could just..go.

“What are you doing?” Wesker yelled. “Eva!”

A shadow fell over him and something stabbed his chest. It was more like a painful pinch than the knife he got to his leg. The sensation faded and he breathed out. His lungs refused to inhale again and his mind emptied. The gloomy sky his last image.


	20. Friends and Enemies

The last thing he expected the afterlife to be was a nuisance shaking his shoulder and pushing a mirror into his face. Every inch of him ached or stung too. Hardly seemed right.

“Chris!”

He opened his good eye. So the other remained damaged in death? Blinking, his gaze looked into the mirror crowding him. _Whoah..._

The brown iris had visible green specks. He blinked and took a second look. The same strange eye stared back at him. Arms flattened him to the ground in a tight hug. He felt soft grass.

He drew in a painful breath. “Ow.”

When she didn't seem to hear, he tried again. “Ooow?”

She pulled away. “Oh. Sorry.” She scooted her seated position back a couple feet. “Sorry.”

He brought himself up to a sitting position. “Eva? How am I..alive?”

“I injected my blood into you and it brought you back to life,” she revealed happily.

Chris traced where there was now a hole in his shirt. Skin and cloth was stained a damp red, but no hole in his body. Not even a trace of injury. Amazing.

Something moved in his throat, choking him. Gagging, he turned to the side and hacked violently. He'd coughed up a bullet. Damn.

His mind wasn't anywhere near comprehending fully the concept viral-infected blood saved him. He thought for now, it was better to forget it and remember he had the responsibility of getting civilians home. Struggling to stand with that determination in mind, two sets of hands assisted him to stand.

Wesker and Eva. He thanked the latter for saving him again. Orienting himself, he concentrated on pushing past the pain and exhaustion his mind persisted should overwhelm. He had...

“Where are they? Where are we?”

“Tricell's property,” Wesker replied. “Everyone who was brought here by Umbrella's reject vanished when he died.”

Some of the sounds he heard came fresh to him. “The gunshot? Did anyone...?”

“They're fine, Chris. I presume they have returned to where they were before coming here. Your dear sister made certain Specter would never hurt another living soul.”

Claire did it. She killed him, or at least finished him. And she was gone. He'd have to call her to confirm she was all right the second he had opportunity. The events of the day were beyond surreal.

He relaxed knowing it was probable everyone else had gotten home safe and sound.

Under Eva's insistence, Wesker fetched the first aid kit left by Dr. Patel on the ground nearby. It would seem anything they recovered while inside Specter's illusions couldn't be taken with them. Most of what they saw and even touched, could not have been real. Since they didn't really exist, boom, vanished in a second after the creator perished, or so he imagined.

He tried to recall when and where the doctor picked up the kit. Wherever he had, it must have been a real place they wandered into. Possibly the crates of supplies in which they replenished ammunition following the fight against Uroboros and then Wesker. That seemed right.

Eva went off to retrieve a bag she'd brought into town while staying with her dad. It had extra clothing for her and Wesker. He would be out of luck in that regard.

After she was gone, Wesker took care of his wounds. By the time he was done, bandages covered his entire upper body and wrapped around his skull, covering the injured eye. He couldn't open it anyway. The worst part was the uncomfortable silence between them. The best part was the pain pills he was given.

When Eva came back wearing clean clothes, Chris chuckled.

“What are you laughing at?” she asked, suspicious.

“Nothing. Don't even worry about it.”

Eva was wearing the exact same black outfit. The difference was this one wasn't soaked in blood. The girl had her father's sense of style, or at least color. He noticed she didn't have her arm in a sling and it hung stiff at her side.

“Do you want to take care of that?”

She shrugged. “I'll get along fine without anything for now.”

Chris decided to not force the matter and shifted away from her, staring across the plains at the night sky. Silence reigned between him and the younger Wesker as well, but this quiet was comfortable. When Wesker emerged from the shed in a clean outfit, he suppressed another laugh. He wore identical clothing as before just like Eva.

He turned back to the sky and listened to the two converse behind him.

“Why can't I have cool power like you do?” she asked. “You get healing, super speed, _and_ super strength. No fair. I have to die for something to happen for me.”

“Eva, I want you to live a normal life. I don't want you to become inhuman like me.”

He didn't seem to have any interest in remaining on the topic. Apparently, Eva wasn't going to let him off that easy.

“I doubt there's going to be a normal for me. I'm seventeen and graduated from college, my father's pretty much a super soldier on the terrorist watchlist, and I just died and resurrected.”

There was a long period of silence which started him thinking they somehow walked away and left. He couldn't be that deaf though. He was turning to see when Eva's voice filled the quiet.

“So what of your promise?”

Chris perked up, curious what the promise could be.

“Yes. You may stay with me. I gave you my word, didn't I?”

He couldn't see with his back to them but he could basically hear Eva's head bobbing up and down as she indicated her understanding and agreement.

“Yeah, yeah. You did.”

Someone came to stand next to him. Eva shifted her stance beside him and stared out at the starry sky. After a few moments of quiet peacefulness, no cause for concern or heartache other than the kind which they would keep, she spoke.

“What are you going to do now? The organization you're a part of isn't real. It would be stupid dangerous to go back. So what are you going to do?”

He met her gaze with grim determination. “It's been my life's work to bring Umbrella down and I thought I accomplished that goal. I was wrong, which means I have a job to do.”

“But the letter said Sheva was their last hope for Umbrella's revival. Now that she's dead I thought they would be finished...” Eva trailed off, looking to him for answers.

He shook his head. “Umbrella won't give up that easily. Not if they're still out there trying to bring themselves back in the public's graces after years tarnished. I'm going to stop them. For good this time.”

“Ah Chris, you haven't changed at all,” Wesker said, smirking.

The man strolled slowly over to stand on his other side, looking at the sky as they did. He peered at Chris above the rims of his sunglasses. It was night. _Take them off!_

“It seems our paths are forever destined to cross,” Wesker said.

“Yeah, it seems that way,” he admitted.

“I have an idea!” Eva exclaimed, suddenly very enthused. “You keep crossing paths and you hate Umbrella. You guys are perfect for working together to fight them! I'll help! The three of us will take the corporation down together.”

He was incredulous at the idea. “What? Wesker and me working together? We hate each other!”

“What was your plan then? Go and fight Umbrella alone?” Eva asked him skeptically. “Recruit friends who will be in danger because you told them the truth?”

She accidentally hit a sore spot. His expression darkened and grief seeped in. His jaw twitched when his teeth clenched together as he struggled to prevent his emotions from surfacing. When he responded, he managed to keep his voice level and composed.

“Jill and I, we destroyed Umbrella together, or we thought we had. I'm grateful she died without knowing those bastards are still out there.”

He laughed forced, filling with despair. Her excitement faded and she grew solemn.

“Chris, there will be a happy ending for you. Sometimes it just takes time.”

“Maybe you're right. Specter had a happy end and a not so happy end. Maybe it'll end up being both.”

Eva frowned, not understanding. He did his best to articulate his thoughts. This was a thing he was newly coming to understand as possible.

“I'm not sure on this, but I think there were two parts of him. Part of him was convinced in his psychosis that he was the real embodiment of sin. The other part knew he was just some guy who was engineered by people out of his control. Maybe the part of him delusional and crazy, maybe it was trying to become someone who could stop evil like the evil that made him. The whole group of people we met, might have been a creation by his one half to counter the machinations of his other half.”

“You think some of this wasn't real? Like your sister wasn't ever here?”

Chris wanted to believe the good people they met were really and truly out there somewhere. They'd been tough and brave facing enormous adversity, all of them. But it would also mean some of them died and some would have a lifetime of trauma to take home with them. He wanted people to stop getting hurt by bioterrorism.

“Maybe you're right,” Eva said, echoing his earlier answer, and then said, “But us being here and what happened was real enough. And we won. It's over.”

Chris glanced at her before returning his gaze to the sky. He knew where she was going with this and it just wouldn't be true for him. He didn't want to pretend.

“People like us, we don't get happy endings.”

Resolution appeared in full force in the girl's expression. “That's why it's up to us to be the ones to fight. So others can get their happy endings.”

He smiled, meeting her gaze. “Sure. Why not? If I can't be happy then I'll make sure others can.”

“ _We'll_ make sure. You don't have to do this alone.”

Chris turned to Wesker, who met his resolved gaze.

“What do you say? I know we don't like each other and there's the whole enemy, nemesis thing... But if we form an alliance, I'm sure we can destroy Umbrella.”

The other man appeared to consider their situation while studying his face. Lingering on Chris's eye for longer than he liked, he reached a decision. Wesker surprised him when he held out a gloved hand for him to shake. He never thought he'd see the day...

“Agreed.” Chris accepted the handshake. “We shall have an alliance to destroy Umbrella.”

Eva threw her arms around him happily, pulling him out of Wesker's grasp.

“Yes! You can stay with us since we're probably gonna have to go into hiding.”

“Hiding?”

“Yeah, from Umbrella,” she explained. “When you don't go back to work for the BSAA, they're going to realize you've discovered their true purpose and come after you. You're too much of a thorn in their side for them to let you live with what you know.”

He frowned. That's right. He knew this would be the case. He didn't think they'd come after his sister or any of the others, if those others did exist, because they would have no reason to suspect any of them were involved or knew unless given reason. However, he figured it wouldn't hurt to warn his sister and friends to be safe. Working with Wesker, he wondered if the man would go for the idea of him contacting others. Maybe he wouldn't tell him.

“I guess that's true,” he conceded.

Wesker shifted his sunglasses and began walking across the field.

“Fine. You may live with us,” he called back to Chris. “But if you and my daughter engage in..relations, I will personally castrate you.”

His eyes widened in shock at the wild insinuation. Heightened awareness reminded Eva still had her arms wrapped around him.

Not the least bit eager to take Wesker up on his threat, he quickly detached from his daughter. He could feel his cheeks heating in embarrassment and a glimpse of the girl saw a red blush painted her cheeks. The next few days were going to be extremely uncomfortable.

The two rushed to catch up with the other, keeping a certain amount of space between them as they hurried. Before they made it to him, Chris heard Wesker say one more thing on the topic.

“The day I ever see mini Redfields... Ahahaha...”


End file.
